Blood and Honor: A Genji Origin Story
by Imagine Harmonics
Summary: Another sleepy day at Watch Point Gibraltar. Just more documents to fill out, and peanut butter to be had. It wasn't all bad though, the place seemed busier than it normally was, and it was good catching up with old friends. But dinner under the sunset was rudely interrupted by a strange transmission; one that they couldn't know would change their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

"Did somebody say… peanut butter?"

"Doctor Ziegler, he's doing it again."

"Again?" The doctor stood up from her study. "Winston, come over here and say 'ah'."

The ape, which took great pleasure into watching people's faces when he demonstrated his eloquence, lumbered over to the doctor. "Really though, I could really use some peanut butter. Right now."

"Yes," Doctor Ziegler said distractedly, peering into the ape's mouth illuminated by her rotated desk lamp, "yes… I'm sure you would. Winston, has the gene therapy really done nothing to help you?"

"Oh no, Angela, it definitely helped. With the rashes, at least." Winston pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "The only downside seems to be quite the addiction to peanut butter, which isn't too bad." He paused. "As long as there's peanut butter."

"But really, love," the girl lying on a pile of boxes interjected, absorbed by the game she held in her hands, "almost half of our expenses this month have just been peanut butter." She raised her eyes from the device briefly, looking at the ape. "Almost _half_ , Winston."

Winston scratched an ear guiltily, looking off to the side. "Well, it's not like we do much here, on the Rock of Gibraltar, anyway."

"Or the _Peñón de Gibraltar_ , as the locals would call it," Angela chirped in.

"Or that." Winston sighed. "And please, Tracer, those packages are supplies meant for the eastern division in China. A carrier is coming by to pick them up tomorrow. You'll damage them."

"These things?" Tracer replied offhandedly as she casually rapped her knuckles on one, "that doesn't sound like something that can be damaged even if it's thrown out of an aircraft going at mach speed!"

"W-well…" Winston said, sputtering, "still though, you understand—"

"No, Winston," Tracer interrupted, putting down her little device which the doctor watched with intrigue as it continued to emit strange noises and light, "no, I don't understand. I don't understand what I'm doing on this stupid rock, I don't understand why I'm not with my family, eating a meal, having a laugh, and I sure don't understand why you care so much about these boxes!" She jumped off her bed of boxes and made her way out of the room, where she paused by the doorframe. "And my name is _Lena,_ you _monkey!_ "

Angela and Winston flinched as she slammed the door, the vibration travelling up their toes. "…not a monkey," the ape muttered sadly under his breath, "I'm a scientist."

An awkward moment of silence passed before Angela spoke. "Perhaps you shouldn't call her that. Not yet, at least."

"I know," the ape, whose eloquence occasionally failed him, said pensively, "I just forget sometimes, and I know how frustrating it must be for her to be kept here at Gibraltar. If it were up to me, she would have had a shuttle out of here two months ago."

"Then I'm sure glad it's not up to you," replied the doctor, "there's still much to be confirmed about that accelerator strapped to her chest. It's still a prototype, after all. You never know what it'd do."

"You're right on that department," Winston acknowledged, "still though, I just don't understand why her survival from the _Slipstream_ incident has to be treated like some national secret."

"Ah, I would agree with you there," Angela said, "but I'm sure Morrison and the directors have their reasons. And I trust them."

"As do I. I just wish we can do a little more for Tra… Lena."

"As do I."

Another moment of silence passed between the two, both of them unsure about how to dispel the atmosphere and get back to work. Angela took the initiative to break the silence again. "You know," she began, "I'm not particularly fond about being here too. My place is in the hospital."

"I was wondering how long it would take you to say that," Winston said sheepishly, "you'll only be here long enough to clear the re-registration of your permits and visas, we can't have you held back on borders, now can we?"

The doctor sighed. "You're right."

"Yes, and with all these documents you have to fill out," Winston said while gesturing to the mess of papers sprawled across the table, "doesn't it just make you beg for _Mercy_?"

The doctor stared blankly at the ape.

"You see," the ape snickered awkwardly, "because… that's your… codename," he finished lamely.

The doctor's stare was as absent of emotion as it was unwavering.

"I'll get back to work."

"I will as well." Mercy sat back down and picked up a few papers.

The ape, whose eloquence often failed him, coughed as he consulted his clipboard, double checking the contents of the delivery.

The plates shined auburn against the setting sun as the doctor and the scientist ate their dinner, and attempts to have Lena join them only resulted in muffled groans through the door. Winston left a tub of peanut butter before it. Mercy tactfully removed that and replaced it with a tray of food she prepared for their dinner.

Dinner was shared mostly in silence, a silence occasionally broken by bouts of small talk about how the doctor's numerous hospitals were faring across the continents, and any recent breakthroughs in research and development in Gibraltar. Apparently, Morrison was across the world in Singapore conducting a reconnaissance mission under the suspicion of Chinese insurgents while Wilhelm was in Norway, something about peace negotiations.

All of a sudden, red lights started flaring up over the facility as a female synthetic voice cried out over the intercom, _"Emergency transmission! Emergency transmission! Emergency transmission!"_

"Calm down," Winston called loudly from across the table to a startled Angela, "It does this sometimes whenever there's a transmission, it's not necessarily an emergency!"

"What?!"

"I said, it might not be an emergency! There's still some bugs in _Athena_ I haven't worked out yet!" He got up from the table. "I'm going to find out what this is all about!"

"What?!"

The ape raised his voice and shouted, "Just stay here! I'll be right back!"

He hurried back into the control room where he mashed a button to connect the transmission, his ears ringing from the blaring. He dug a finger into one. "I really need to get that fixed, or make it a little quieter, at least," he muttered.

The call connected to reveal a young man on the other side, face pale and sweating. He looked to be in a state of panic. "Winston of watch point seven-oh-nine Gibraltar, sir, is that you?"

"Speaking."

"Riley Miles, first sergeant of thirteenth platoon foxtrot company, requesting immediate evac of one critically wounded at coordinates thirty-five and nine-two, one-thirty-seven and six-three to your immediate location, sir!"

"That's Japan," Winston breathed, "why here, sergeant? How did you start this transmission?"

"Sir, when the patient was brought to the Bluestone hospital, the surgeons did what they could. But what they could was to barely stabilize the patient from the brink of death. Doctor Angela Ziegler authorized emergency transmissions to be made to your location if there is a perceived chance a patient might live, on any circumstance." The soldier looked off to the side, and what color was left on his face drained completely. "To be honest, sir, I have absolutely no idea how he's still alive. He was thrashing and wailing when we found him, and now he's still twitching a bit after being administered general anesthesia. I need your authorization to have him transported."

"Understood, soldier." The ape pushed a number of keys on the control panel. "Transportation authorized from your location. You may proceed with due haste."

Relief washed over his face. "Thank you, sir. We just don't know what to do with him, it was a nightmare bringing him here in the first place. We thought he was just a mangled mess of trash on the ground when he started moaning and then screaming, one word, over and over again." He shuddered. "It sounded like a devil calling on souls."

"What did he say?" asked Winston.

" _Hanzo_ ," the sergeant replied, "just ' _Hanzo'_ , over and over again."


	2. Chapter 2

He opened his eyes.

It was dark. That he knew. The window to his left hosted the moon and the stars, and he could make out the quiet hoot of a faraway owl amidst the soft chirping of crickets. The man understood it was night, and that he was lying on a bed. He also understood that the room was dark, too dark to see. And yet, he could.

He saw the room in a pale green, noise around the edges of his vision. He could see the corners of the room and the objects which occupied them. The bedside table, the cupboards and chairs. There was writing on a small piece of paper tacked on the cupboard opposite the room, minute English writing in a neat cursive.

"Genji… Shimada," the man whispered to himself, reading the note, "if you can read this, flick the switch resting on the table beside the bed."

The man looked to his right where sure enough, rested a plain white switch. He decided not to tamper with it. Instead, he got up from the bed. A strange whirling filled his ears and he was confused to find that he couldn't exactly _feel_ getting up. His body felt numbed over. The sensation felt foreign, wrong. It was far too easy getting up from the bed, and it was also disconcerting how easy it was to reach the door of the room. He reached for the doorknob.

Several white, metallic protrusions moved towards it too, he saw. In his shock, he pulled his hand back, staring at the alien things.

The alien things followed his motions until he realized that it continued into a larger, central metallic pillar, into a pivoting joint, which traveled up into panels.

He came upon the revelation that he was staring at his arm. With great curiosity stemmed from a sense of confusion, he brought his hands forward and watched them. The metal things closed up when he clenched his fists, and opened up when he relaxed. He brought them directly onto his face until they blocked his vision, then made a soft _clunk_ when they made contact.

His face. What did it look like? He looked around for a mirror that wasn't there before remembering his earlier objective of leaving the room. Thinking about his situation, he opened the door and entered into a dimly lit corridor.

His room was one at the end of it with several other closed doors flanking him. He felt no desire to discover what was behind those doors and instead resolved to follow the hallway to see where it would take him. The narrow corridor eventually opened up into a larger space, with one glass section which exposed the terrain of the land and beyond. A moment was all he took to access his surroundings of the rocky shore and the waters which kissed it before he continued on his way to find… … … _to find what?_

The man stopped in his tracks. What _was_ he looking for? He woke up in a strange room to a strange note, to find that he existed on a bed meant for… for… who? Racking his memory, the man struggled to recall what he was doing before he found himself on the bed in the dead of the night, in a metallic body which felt odd and unnatural.

Try as he might, he just couldn't remember. His head hurt from the attempt. Left with nothing else to do or accomplish, he resumed his trudge in a state of resigned calm. What felt like half an hour past wandering the facility and pressing his ear against doors with light pouring underneath, listening to the sound of soft snores and animated conversations that held no meaning to him until he came upon one which did. He was just about to abandon it and go on his way when he heard mention of a familiar name.

"…Genji, of the Shimada clan! Would you believe it? To think that he would just drop out of the sky like this, especially now with our current conflict with them, I mean, we can get all we—"

"I understand your enthusiasm, Winston," a soft feminine voice replied, a sharp contrast to the gruffness of the first one, "but the answer is still no. I'm already at the end of my rope doing an operation I didn't and in fact, still don't fully subscribe to. Right now, that man is my patient. And I will care for him. You can evaluate him as a _weapon_ after." She spat the last sentence with such venom that even the eavesdropper felt slightly uneasy.

A heavy silence past before the first voice spoke in more guarded tones, "I didn't like the idea of this either. He should be free to make him own decisions and we should have consulted him when he woke up."

"Yes." The man pressed his ear harder into the wall. The voice sounded quieter, more tired. "That's what we should have done."

"But…"

"Demands from Morrison and the directors," the two finished in unison.

Another silence.

"I'm sorry," the woman started, "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It's just that… it's very frustrating."

"Say no more, Angela. I know how you feel. You should get some rest. How long since you've last slept?"

Angela yawned. "Eighty-two hours." Footsteps. Getting louder. "I'll check on him again, then I'll turn in. Thank you, Win—Aaah!"

The door opened and the man was suddenly flooded with light. On the ground before him, on her back, lay a slender blonde woman in a white T-shirt and sweatpants, her hair tied up in a bun that's already starting to fray.

"Excellent," she murmured, "I have begun to hallucinate."

The man found his voice and spoke, "why have you been awake for so long?" His eyes moved onto Winston, where they stood staring at each other for a good five seconds. "Monkey."

"Scientist," the ape replied rapidly.

"Monkey is talking," observed the man.

Angela, still on the ground, watched this exchange and remarked in disbelief, "I'm not hallucinating." She slowly pushed herself to her feet, and tired eyes became full of concern. "What are you doing out of bed? Didn't you see the note?"

"I do not know a Genji. But I will let him know to flick the switch if I find him." He paused. "Are you looking for him? Do you need my help?"

Concerned eyes turned confused, then widened in understanding. She slowly placed a palm onto his faceplate where his cheek would be. "Do you…" She hesitated. "What's your name?"

"I am…" He raised a hand, scratching the back of his helmet. "I do not know. Do you know who I am?"

Angela and Winston winced at the sound of screeching metal. The two exchanged a look. At Winston's shrug, Angela turned to the man and said after giving herself a moment, "Well… you see." She paused, looking to his right hand. "What is that you are holding?"

He raised the hand in question and examined the object within. "I believe this is Genji's doorknob." He raised his eyes to the two. "I apologize. I just realized this myself."

The man stood in the doorway, watching the inscrutable expressions of the ape and the woman. "You have eye bags, Angela," the man observed, "perhaps you should get some rest."


	3. Chapter 3

The man stood before a mirror, examining himself.

His entire body was encased in metal, flesh-colored tendons peeking out here and there. Certain parts of his body glowed a bright acid green, but the particular feature that really took to him was his face. Where his face should be was a plate of steel vertically angled to the center, and a horizontal slit for his eyes which glowed green. He surmised that this was how he could see in the dark.

Wait. Eyes? Did he have them? He turned to the doctor standing to the right of him, watching him through the mirror. Those eyes. Pity? "Am I human, or an omnic?"

Wordlessly, she moved behind him and activated two twin pistons by his spine. There was the sound of gas being released, and the perpetual green tint of his vision blurred into multi-colored facets. He put his hands in front of him. They were blurry and ill-defined, but he could make them out. He looked up…

And immediately looked away. The face of the man that stood in the mirror was grotesque, to say the least. Despite his impaired vision, he could see the angry red gashes upon his face, and the two milky orbs which sat in burnt sockets. "I look to be in great pain. Why am I not in pain?"

"You were," said the doctor solemnly, "and the reason why you are not anymore is more due to the fact that the suit we put you in is systematically pumping painkillers into you. But do you truly have no recollection of what happened? None at all?"

He was deep in thought. "Please, remind me once more. Who am I?"

Winston, to the left, straightened his glasses. "Genji Shimada, of the Shimada clan. An infamous crime syndicate based in Japan. As of recent, reports have informed upon increased aggression, and the death toll alone for—"

"That's enough, Winston," interrupted Angela, noticing Genji's distress.

"Is that who I really am?" muttered the cyborg, still avoiding eye contact with himself, "a killer? A murderer?" He looked imploring to the scientist. "Was I better off dead?"

Genji felt his weight shift ever so slightly. He turned to see Angela embracing his middle-section, her hair obscuring her eyes. "Don't say that," she whispered, "nobody is better off dead. _Nobody."_

The next few moments were spent in silence. Genji felt an odd loneliness inside his metal body, unable to feel the warmth of the hug, but it warmed him all the same.

Winston coughed. "Uh… I suppose I should have mentioned first that though the Shimada is known for its ferocity, and cruelty—you in particular didn't participate in any of that," he finished quickly, noticing Angela's glare. "That's actually the reason why you're here right now, with the help of Doctor Ziegler." He nodded to her. "You were exiled."

The cyborg relaxed. "So I am not a murderer?"

Winston turned to the command center and pulled up archives of reports. "As far as I know, no. Your green hair would be mentioned somewhere, given how much attention it draws."

"I have green hair?" he asked, surprised.

"Well… used to."

The ape shrinked at the look on the doctor's face.

"Is that…" Genji moved toward the screens. "Is that me?"

"Ah, yes." Winston enlarged the picture to occupy the entire screen. "You were quite the looker."

Genji spent a long while studying the image on the screen, saying nothing. There was an air of confidence the man wore, and his eyes were vibrant and full of life. They were like a child's. He was clad in white robes accented in orange, with strange looking crests and objects which adorned it.

He turned to the doctor. "How much of me is still human?"

He immediately regretted his question when he saw how much pain and guilt became painted on her face as a result.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Genji," she sputtered, "the state you arrived in was absolutely terrible. You were barely clinging onto life and I had to… had to… I had to start the operation as soon as I could—your arms, your legs… I'm called the world's best surgeon, called _Mercy_ , but what does it mean if—"

Genji silenced Mercy with a deep bow. "I have caused you pain. I am sorry."

"What are you doing?" asked the doctor in disbelief, completely caught off guard, "don't apologize! You didn't ask for any of this. You didn't ask to be brought to the door of death to wake up to a body you didn't know, to be _mutilated_ by the hands of your family! You didn't ask—"

Genji bowed deeper and harder into the ground. The sound of metal on concrete resonated throughout the room. A stunned silence filled the air, practically daring someone to start laughing.

"Astounding," commended an impressed Winston, "his knees aren't even bent!"

"And you, doctor, did you ask for this?" He pulled his face from the floor and looked her in the eye. "You are not to blame. And even if you were, I would have forgiven you. For you have saved me."

Angela scrunched her face in defiance. "I—"

Impatient, the cyborg planted a finger on her lips, effectively quieting her. "Thank you, Doctor Ziegler."

Angela pushed his hand away, a faint blush on her cheeks. Her shoulders slumped, becoming visibly relaxed. "To think it would come down to you reassuring me," she commented, watching him carefully, "you're an interesting man, Genji. I would liked to have known you."

"Me too," agreed Genji, "I would like to know me too."

Mercy stared blankly at the cyborg for a second, then started laughing. It was a soft, quiet laughter. Genji thought of wind chimes.

"Oh, would you look at that," said Winston, looking out the window, "the crack of dawn."

"Already?" asked a surprised Angela, "I have yet to run system checks on you, Genji. Quickly, follow me…"

He grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "Doctor, you must rest. You are dead on your feet." Genji looked behind him. "It can wait, or the monkey can do it."

"Scientist," the ape shot back, as fast as he could.

"Nonsense! I've been waiting for you to wake up to do it, have to make sure everything is running as it should…"

"Doctor Ziegler?" Genji said, alarmed by how much Angela was swaying.

"Have to replenish… replenish painkiller supply… reaffirm cognitive compatibility with artificial limbs and…" The world was spinning. "And…"

"Doctor Ziegler!" He caught the doctor before her body found the ground. She was breathing deeply, asleep. Her face finally showed some semblance of peace, after contorting itself between sympathy, confusion, frustration and laughter, all in the last few hours.

"Ah…" said Winston, "I was wondering when that would happen."

"We must get a doctor!"

"She _is_ the doctor. I could call paramedics up here, but really, there's no need." Winston pulled out a piece of cloth from a drawer and began to clean his glasses with it methodically. "Don't worry, this happens on occasion enough for one to start expecting it. Simple exhaustion."

"Then why didn't you insist that she went to bed?" responded Genji, incredulous.

A haunted look came over his eyes. "I've learnt that it's better for everyone if I don't."

Genji adjusted himself and carried Mercy with both arms. "Then I will bring her to her room. It is the least I can do." She weighed almost nothing. "Doing this is so easy. I wonder just how much I can manage…" He glanced up to Winston.

Winston returned his look blankly at first, before understanding his implication. "No," he said flatly, "a scientist has his pride."

The cyborg continued making eye contact with the ape, the latter refusing to break it first. After a few moments, Genji picked up his visor from the desk, reattached it to his face, and walked out of the room with Mercy in tow.

Winston waited patiently. He listened to the sound of the cyborg's footsteps getting softer and softer. A brief moment of silence. The footsteps returned, getting louder this time. The cyborg returned to the door. The two watched each other.

"Doctor Ziegler has passed out."

"Yes," said Winston.

"She must be brought to her room."

"Yes," said Winston.

"To rest."

The two watched each other.

The ape sighed. "Follow me."


	4. Chapter 4

The sun peeked over the horizon. The waves along the shore were washed in a warm amber, and the chill of the morning breeze cooled her skin. She listened to the calls of the seagulls as they flew overhead, sitting on a granite outcrop which twinkled against the sunlight. Her lungs filled with salty air as she watched the waters crash onto the shore, foaming and receding.

"Greetings."

Unexpectedly broken out of her reverie, her head landed in a bed of grass as she lost her balance and fell backwards. An upside-down silhouette of a head came into her vision.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concerned tones.

She pushed herself back onto her rock, looking at him up and down. "So this is what's become of you, huh?" She scowled. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes," he replied, sitting himself on the rock beside her, "a moment of peace. I have much to think about."

The two sat in silence for a while, the serene sounds of the early morning accompanying their thoughts.

She couldn't ignore it any longer. "Y'know, you're really hard to look at."

He bowed his head sadly. "I know. I could hardly look at myself as well."

"No, I mean, the sun is reflecting off of your face." She paused. "It's going right into my eyes. Pretty blinding."

"Oh." He tilted his head. "Better?"

"Yes."

They continued their shared moment of silence. The cyborg picked up a stick from the ground and began picking at the dirt in front of him absently.

She watched him. "Doesn't it bother you?" she said softly, "being in that thing?"

He stopped scratching at the dirt, thinking about his answer. "It does. But it is keeping me alive. For that I am grateful."

"Yeah," the girl said, glancing at the glowing artifact on her chest, "I guess I feel the same way."

"What happened to _you?_ " he asked.

"Long story." She looked up, watching the trek of the clouds which fleeced the sky. "Made short, though, I got a little… stuck. The place I was trapped in—I don't really remember much of it." She shuddered. "I just remember it was cold, and it was terribly, terribly dark and lonely."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be."

He watched the sky with her. It was gradually shifting to brighter hues. "At least, you are here now. You are alive."

"I know that." She smiled. "I'm just… a little sad, and a little scared. Being here now, I can't help but think about what my parents and sisters are doing. What are they thinking? Are they missing me? Are they crying? Have they accepted what's happened?" She tucked her head between her knees, and continued more softly, "do they think I'm dead, lost hope? My skin felt like it would crack and break off from the cold while I was trapped, and this little thing—" She touched the humming little device on her chest "—is the only thing keeping me anchored here. What if I get lost again? If I get stuck in a place where there's no concept of time and continuity, an eternal hell?"

"You will not."

The girl became angry, annoyed. "How can you be so sure about that?"

"Winston and Doctor Ziegler will never let that happen."

The statement was made with such firmness and certainty it brokered no argument. The girl calmed down and returned her gaze skywards. "I know that too," she admitted after a moment. "It's just that there's this little voice in the back of my head nagging at me sometimes; 'If I've been there before, I could fall back there again'. They've done so much for me, and I just give them a hard time. Especially Winston, he was the one who made this." She sighed. "They must be absolutely knackered at my behavior. I just really miss my family. I want to see them again and cry into their shoulders. I want to go home."

The sun was brighter now, the rich auburn slowly transitioning into blue.

The girl broke the silence. "I don't think I caught your name."

"My name is Genji," he answered.

"Lena," she responded in kind, "but all the records here know me as 'Tracer'."

"Why?"

Lena shrugged. "The great ape said something about secrecy and confidentiality, but it's all bollocks if you ask me." She turned to him. "And who were you before this? What's your story?"

"I do not know. It was they who told me what my name was."

She stared at the cyborg. "Are you having me for a laugh?"

"It is true. My earliest memory is waking up here. But I know I'm from Japan."

"That's a first!" she laughed, "you're totally off your trolley, ain'tcha?"

Genji looked down. "No. I am on this rock."

Tracer stared at him for a moment—and lost it. The cyborg watched her as she shook and rolled on the patch of grass, convulsing in mirth. Her guffaw rang across the shoreline. After a long, cathartic moment of laughing with fingers pressed to her sides, she wiped a tear from an eye and said, "you're really something else, you know that? Oh, that felt good." She took a deep breath and smiled at Genji. "I really needed that. Thank you." Specks of dirt clung to her ponytail.

The cyborg felt as though he completely lost track of the situation. He decided not to question it as he replied, "you are welcome. Thank you too, for listening to me."

"Aw, don't be so stiff!" she said cheerfully, getting back up the rock and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get some breakfast. I've been up since five and I haven't eaten a thing. I'm famished!"

The cyborg's gaze was locked onto the sky. He didn't move a muscle as he studied the horizon. Noticing this, Tracer asked, "what's wrong, cat got your tongue?"

"There is a fleet of aircraft approaching us. Seven of them."

"What?" she asked, following his gaze. "I can't see a thing." Tracer stood up. "It's probably another delivery or transport carrier. They just came to receive a shipment a few days ago. Come on, let's go."

He stood up, but approached the shore. "They are flying very close to the water. Their bodies are black, like obsidian."

"That's not right… aircraft that comes through here are always white, slashed in grey." She glanced uncertainly out into the sea. "Are you sure you're seeing right?"

"I am." Genji turned to Lena. "We must go to Winston. Maybe he would know—"

Without warning, the cyborg collapsed onto the ground, clutching his head.

"Genji? Genji!" yelled Lena, panicking, "what's wrong? What's happened to you?"

"Pain," he whimpered, "so much pain. Make it stop, please! The burning…"

"Oh, what do I do, what do I do…" Tracer muttered to herself, looking around, hoping an answer would present itself around the corner. Unfortunately, rocks and the quizzical beady stares of seagulls did little to help her situation.

She tried to hoist him onto her back. Too heavy. He wouldn't stay on from his constant shaking either. She tried to drag him across the ground. Better luck would be found trying to move a fire hydrant!

At a loss of what to do, Lena leaned down and said as reassuringly as she could, trying to keep her voice level, "I'm going to get help. I'll come back for you as fast as I can, I promise!" With that, she ran for the door, slamming it open with her shoulder as she sprinted for the control center.


	5. Chapter 5

"Winston!"

"Oh, it's you, Lena! I was just thinking to talk to you about—" The ape turned from the control panel. "Lena? What's wrong?"

"Genji, he—on the beach! Fell over… shaking! And… and…"

Winston moved over to Tracer. "Calm down. Take a deep breath."

She took a deep breath, exhaling quickly. "Genji collapsed on the beach. He's shaking on the ground in pain, I couldn't carry him…"

"Pain…" Winston touched his chin thoughtfully. "Angela said something about painkillers for Genji. Lena, we must fetch the doctor, and fast!"

"And another thing," she said between breaths, "he saw black aircraft headed our way. He said there's seven of them."

"Impossible," Winston mumbled, "there isn't anything on the schedule for something like this, and we have entire systems designed and in place to watch for unauthorized air occupation." He returned to the command center and started mashing keys. "All surveillance systems are green-lit. No alerts or discrepancies. Nothing on satellite imaging except for clouds and water. Radio-wave scan—" He stopped pressing keys and instead looked out the window. "Lena, what was the altitude on the flyers, and their bearings?"

"I couldn't see them myself." She was still trying to catch her breath. "But Genji said they were very close to the water. He saw them coming west, from the sea."

Winston held a button on the terminal and spoke into the microphone, "mainland, this is watch point seven-oh-nine Gibraltar. Seven unidentified aircraft discovered to be approaching this location, bearing from the west. Please advise." Silence. "Mainland, how copy?" More silence. The ape pressed a different button, speaking into the microphone once more, "section bravo-three, I need you to extract the patient on the west beach. He's incapacitated." Lena could heard the sound of static from where she stood. "Our communications relay is down," muttered Winston, "the entire relay."

Several long seconds past. Lena couldn't stop thinking about the cyborg she left on the shore. Just when she was about to speak up, Winston said with a tone of urgency she never heard before, "listen very carefully, Tracer."

Tracer nodded.

"I cannot leave this room. I'm going attempt a reboot on the relay, radio for reinforcements and initiate defense protocols from in here. You must attend to Mercy and Genji alone. Do you know where her room is?"

Tracer nodded.

"Hurry there and let her know the situation. After that, go four floors below. Third door on the right labelled _heavy duty_ in section bravo-three will be where you will find a special stretcher. You will need that to carry Genji up to the operation theater. It's on the level directly above Mercy's quarters. We cannot remove him from the augmentations. It will end his life. Any questions?"

Tracer shook her head.

"Off you go."

And off Tracer went, as fast as she could to the doctor's room. Her legs ached and her lungs burned. There are a sharp pain to her side which grew worse with every impact her foot made against the ground. She tried to regulate her breathing, trying to ignore the constricting feeling which tightened at her chest with each breath. A light-headedness began to take her. Still, she did not falter. Not slowing down, she ran past doors, rooms and buildings, crossing to the other side of the facility. Finally catching sight of the doctor's door, she reached her hand out, twisted the doorknob and slammed her shoulder into the wood all in one motion.

The door crashed into the wall, the hinges whining loudly. Tracer fell into the room on her hands and knees, gasping for air.

"Who's there?" came a very tired voice from the bed. The source slowly pushed herself up from it, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Lena?" Angela processed the state she was in. All signs of fatigue disappeared. "Lena? What's happened? What time is it?" The doctor glanced at the clock which hung over her bed. She swore loudly in German. "Where is Genji?"

After somehow communicating to Mercy the situation with her lungs begging for air, Tracer found herself sprinting down flights of stairs to reach the third door on the right on section bravo-three. The doctor needed time to prepare the operation theater. Tracer had three minutes. When she reached the right floor, she couldn't help but let out a frustrated scream when she saw how far the doors were spaced apart.

She started running. It was then when Lena really starting regretting not keeping in shape throughout her stay here, where her time was spent moaning and moping around the facility. Gravity started to assert itself more strongly onto her, she felt. She reached the first door. _Come on,_ she thought, _just a little bit further. A couple more…_

Tracer lost her balance and fell onto the floor. At this one moment of stagnancy, her exhaustion, fatigue, and pain hit her all at once like a truck. There she lay, her muscles searing and bones aching, in tears as she tried to continue onward on her belly with her arms.

"I'm sorry, Genji," she mumbled, the lights of the corridors flaring in her vision as hot tears welled in her eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry _…_ "

She stopped moving and laid on her back, listening to the sound of her heartbeat pounding into her ears with the weight of failure and guilt upon her. She stayed like that for a while. Though her exhaustion began to recede, her guilt only grew. With herculean effort, she shoved herself off the ground, her legs shifting unsteadily beneath her. She couldn't imagine what Genji could be going through, but it was up to her to bring him to Mercy.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she burned with a newfound resolve as with as much of it as she could muster, threw herself down the corridor.

She fell again. This time, however, she did not cry. Tracer felt like something bizarre just happened, but she couldn't exactly tell what. Looking behind her, she saw the stain of sweat she imprinted onto the floor several feet away, where she was just a moment ago. She moved her attention to the glowing artifact on her chest. Was it just her, or was it glowing brighter just now? Has it whirred this loudly before?

With a feeling of equal amounts disbelief as there was exhilaration, Tracer stood up and tested her new theory. She stared at a spot of the floor in front of her, and with as much will as she had, imagined herself standing here.

She took a step forward—and was sorely disappointed. If it weren't for the circumstances, she would have laughed at herself for believing something so stupid could happen. Alas, this was not the time. She could see her destination at the end of the hall now, and she had no time to waste. Quickly, she glanced behind her to access how much distance she covered—and she felt her heart drop.

The stain of sweat she left on the ground was now much further away from her.

Staring at the mark on the ground, she brought up a hand to touch the device. It was vibrating slightly. And there was no doubt about it; it was glowing much brighter than before. Tracer took a deep breath. An internal war raged inside her, arguing against the evidence of what actually happened. Her knowledge and understanding as a test pilot to project _Slipstream_ just didn't support this line of logic.

Mentally, she took this war of reason and impossibility and placed it in a box. She locked the box and put it in the sock drawer of a cupboard. She shoved the cupboard into the closet which she in turn, also locked. She swallowed both keys. By the time she got those keys back, she'll deal with the problem.

Having dealt to that, she nervously repeated what she did. And each time, she got closer and closer to the second door. A walk eventually broke into a sprint, and in mere seconds she found herself in front of a door labeled _heavy duty_.


	6. Chapter 6

"To the top! Come on, Genji!"

Genji looked at the boy in front of him, his robes fluttering in the wind. He stood on the spot, unmoving, drinking in his environment. The tall grass around him shone the most brilliant green, sparkling like diamonds. They sang a song to him as they swayed and rustled in the earth, the chirping of insects joining its symphony.

A bright sun hung over the sky piercing the clouds, illuminating the vapor in the air. The beams danced across the verdant plains as far as the eye could see, and the vivid blue of the sky shone above the horizon, which split the two.

A fundamental warmth filled Genji. He could feel it in his chest, his stomach, his arms and toes. He kept his eyes on the horizon, mystified by the unknown land which separated heaven and earth beyond. Perhaps one day he would see, he thought, as he turned around and chased the back of the boy, the tall grass parting beneath his steps.

The boy stood on top of a boulder which sat on the apex of the hill, reaching a hand out to him. "You must see this, brother, this was what I wanted to show you!"

He grabbed the boy's hand and hoisted himself onto the rock, his breath taken away by what he saw. It wasn't a hill they were climbing, it was a _cliff._ His eyes were filled with an array of colors. He could see mountains, waterfalls, entire jungles, and animals of all shapes and sizes. Herds of deer trekked across flowery meadows, swans sat on the still waters of lakes, and birds of every color filled the skies. Everything was in motion, everything was in harmony. It was all too much to take in.

"Have you injured yourself? What's the matter?"

Genji looked to the boy, surprised, and wiped at his eyes. The back of his hand came away wet and glistening. He said nothing. Instead, he sniffed and smiled.

"Aren't you a strange one," the boy laughed, slapping him on the back. "I'll race you home!"

The boy ran down the hill, his long hair flowing with the wind. Genji took one last look at the awesome landscape and followed him down. He ran as fast as he could, the wind screaming in his ears. The figure of the boy grew smaller and smaller, further away. He began feeling panicked. He did not want to be left behind.

Faster he ran, down the hill, as fast as his little legs could carry him. He could no longer see the boy. The world seemed to come at a standstill when his foot got caught on a blade of grass, and his ears became strangely muted as his body shattered the land.

Alcohol. There was the first thing the cyborg identified when he woke up. The room smelled sterile, and it was very, very bright. He shielded his eyes as he made to get up—only to get pushed back down.

"Genji. You're awake."

"Doctor Ziegler?"

"You must stay down and rest. I'm performing system diagnostics and replenishing your chemical supplies. You are not in full reign of your faculties right yet."

True enough, the cyborg felt strangely dizzy and light-headed, his movements delayed and sluggish. He noticed that several tubes were snaking in and out between crevices in his mechanical body, little blurry things he could barely make out without the aid of his visor.

"I have failed you again, Genji," Mercy said matter-of-factly.

"Doc—"

The doctor raised a palm, silencing him. "I know it won't do any good to apologize, so I promise to make it up to you, somehow."

"Bu—"

"No but's."

The two stared at each other, refusing to let ground.

"I really think—"

Mercy let out a long, exasperated groan. "You _stupid_ cyborg, before I jam my fingers into my ears and start yelling like a child, let it be!"

They stared at each other.

"Alright."

"Thank you," sighed Mercy.

As Genji sat lying on the operation table under the bright lights of the lamps looming over him, he couldn't help but feel as though he was forgetting something very important.

"Doctor?"

"You can call me Angela, Genji."

"Doctor Angela?"

She sighed again. "Yes, Genji?"

"I believe I had something very important to tell you, but I am at the moment unable to recall exactly what."

"Oh," said Angela absently, consulting the charts and monitors around the cyborg, "is that so?"

He listened to the steady sound of beeping coming from one of the many monitors, trying to remember what he had forgotten. His thoughts were rudely interrupted when he watched the doctor approach a desk by the side of the room and return with a particularly large needle.

"Doctor Angela?"

"Yes," responded the doctor, flicking the tip of the syringe menacingly, or so it seemed to Genji. "What is it?"

"With this much… _stuff_ going in me already, surely _that_ isn't necessary?" He nodded towards the gargantuan metallic object from hell she held in her hands.

"Oh, this?" She held the crusher of happiness and dreams up. "Such a small amount is needed for this I didn't bother hooking it up into the drips. It's just mineral supplements to aid in your recovery, then you don't have to rely on anesthesia anymore." She tilted her head off to the side, confused. "Doesn't that make it easier?"

"I have a strong body and a strong will, doctor," Genji replied a little too quickly, "I do not require supplements of that nature. My body can heal on its own."

Confusion continued to cloud the doctor's face, which eventually dissolved into a vague expression of curiosity. Genji tensed. The room was completely silent, save for the steady beeping of the monitor beside him.

Mercy brought the instrument of despair and damnation so it was face level to Genji and took a single step forward. The machine started beeping more rapidly. She then held it behind her back and took a step backward. The beeping returned to its original pace.

An expression of comprehension dawned upon her features. Wearing an enigmatic smile, she slowly walked towards Genji, needle still behind her. Nonchalantly, she flipped a switch on a pole by him and at an impressive speed, whipped out the deliverer of devastation and eternal sorrow so its tip rested on the bare skin of his neck. The beeping accelerated so fast the machine almost sounded like it was giving off a continuous tone.

"Ah," observed Angela, amused, "it's like sonar."

"Do you mean to _murder me?_ " yelled a panicking Genji, squirming, "I cannot move!"

"Yes, because I deactivated the neural receptors on your parts." She smiled sweetly. "Really though, little it may be, this is imperative to your recovery."

He looked pleadingly up at her. "Have _mercy!_ "

"Have at you too, Genji."

"You're the _devil!_ " he hissed, when he realized begging wasn't going to work.

"I'm hurt." She screwed her face up in an attempt to look wistful, failing miserably. Even if she did succeed, though, there was no hiding the amusement in her eyes. "Here. I'll make it easier. I'll do it on _three._ " She pressed the evil incarnate firmer into his skin.

Genji grew frantic. As far as he could see, there was no escape. He couldn't even move inside his own body.

"One…"

Wait. There was one thing he could do. He remembered Winston mentioning something about a method of suicide to retain the honor of Japanese warriors during his rant this morning, a method of disembowelment by sword.

Genji cursed. He had no such blade, and he wouldn't even be able to do it in the first place! What did he have, in his immediate situation? _I have my teeth,_ thought Genji, laughing victoriously internally, _I will suicide on my lower lip! I will wait until right before she gets to three, then I will—_

"Two!" Mercy plunged the defiler right through his skin, pumping the contents into his body.

Genji shrieked.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Deceived."

"Oh, come now." The doctor, after discarding the syringe, was back at the table mixing brightly colored liquids in test tubes and beakers. "You can't stay angry with me forever."

That much was true. It was immediately after Genji calmed down from his assault that he vowed to never speak to her again, but here he was, a mere two minutes later. He would like to think that it came to a matter of his forgiving and kind nature, instead of his lack of will. He took solace in the fact that he was about to commit oral suicide and was fully prepared to do so.

Shame it did not come to that.

Mercy starting giggling to herself, her hands causing the chemicals she held to tremble. She had been doing that for a while now. Unable to restrain his curiosity any further, he asked, "what is so funny?"

At this, the doctor had to put down the beakers she was carrying for fear of spilling its contents. Her entire body was positively vibrating in silent amusement. "The way you—" Her mirth slurred her speech. She stopped and took a moment to collect herself. "The way you screamed, I'm sorry, I just—" She broke out in a fit of quiet laughter at the look on the cyborg's face.

"That did not happen."

"But it did," she pointed out.

"It will never leave this room."

"I've always been terrible at keeping secrets," she replied.

"Kill me," he requested.

"Later," she said.

The room was once again in a state of quiet. Genji listened to the sound of the beeping beside him which had since returned to levels within reason and the humming Mercy as she tinkered with flasks. He cursed himself for his brief moment of weakness. Still, there was the pressing issue which he could not seem to remember. What could he have forgotten? It was important, that he was sure.

"Doctor?" he started.

"Hmm?"

"Where was I before I ended up here?"

"I was informed you were on the west beach when I failed you."

"You did not f—"

She chuckled. "Oh, hush and rest."

"Who told you where I was?" he asked.

"It was Lena," she said fondly, "thank the heavens she was with you. She came all the way here to notify me of what happened."

"You were asleep," the cyborg remembered, "I apologize for waking you from your rest."

"Do not offer apologies where it is not due."

They shared another moment of silence. Genji found his thoughts drifting to the dream he had.

"Doctor, do you know who would do this to me, and why?"

Genji watched her back. The sound of tinkering glassware ceased. He moved his gaze to the ceiling, staring at the white concrete. "What must I have done, to deserve being maimed so and burnt alive?"

Only the beeping of the monitor filled the room now.

"I was a little girl when I realized the world was not fair," she finally said, "I was in school when I heard the sirens. I remember it well. The ear-piercing sound of jets flying overhead, and the shaking of the earth that always came with the explosions."

Her voice was calm and firm. "It was absolute bedlam in the streets. I, together with my class, was hurried into an underground bomb shelter with steel walls. We had no way of contacting the world outside. All we had was a radio."

Genji kept his silence.

"It was weeks before we got word it was safe to go outside. Where my home once stood was a pile of rubble. I was told the district in which I lived and my parents worked were where the first bombs hit. I was in school in a different district when it happened, my parents were not as lucky."

"Doctor…"

"It was then I realized the world was not fair," she continued, "and most of the time whether a person, whether it be a man, a woman, or a child, may live or die by the luck of the draw." Mercy turned round and gave him a sad smile. "Nobody deserves pain and suffering, Genji, but the world insists it happens. That's why I decided to be a doctor. That's why I'm here right now, with you. Trying to beat the odds."

She walked over and rested her hand on his armored chest. "There's a reason why you are alive with us right now, and the only way left to go is forward."

He studied the turquoise of her eyes. "I had a dream just now, doctor. I was running on beautiful grassy plains with my brother, and we both shared the most amazing sight. I feel ashamed that I do not remember him. We must have been very close. Tell me, what other family do I have? Would you happen to know his name? I am sure they must miss me."

The silence dragged on, begging for an answer. There was a curious look in his eye. It reminded Mercy of some of the children she's operated on, and how they were when they woke up. It was eyes full of grief and confusion, but a hope and gratitude so strong it overpowered everything else, warming her very soul.

She hesitated. "Genji, I—"

A resounding explosion rang throughout the building, shaking the room. Several apparatuses fell off the tables and stands, clanking against the linoleum floor.

"What was that?" asked Genji in consternation.

"Ah," breathed Mercy, "I was wondering when that might have happened."

"What's going on?!" cried the cyborg as another boom resonated around them. The table fell on the floor, shattering the glassware upon it and their contents.

"Well, there seemed to be several aircraft—"

"Aircraft!" shouted Genji, finally remembering, "There were seven aircraft headed here! We must get word to Winston, quickly! Before—"

"He already knows about it," interrupted the doctor as she patted dust off her coat, "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been able to prepare for this." She looked up at the ceiling. "I wonder what is causing all this ruckus though?" The doctor walked over to the intercom and held down the button. "What's the situation, Winston?"

"Oh, Angela, it's you," came the static voice of Winston from it after a moment, "five of the unidentified aircraft have successfully been neutralized, but the remaining two managed to firmly lodge themselves into the west bay." The voice paused. "I just had it repainted too."

"Doctor, activate my limbs! We must get you out of here!"

"Is that Genji I hear?" asked Winston, mildly surprised. "Are you well?"

"Am I well?! Am I well?!" he shouted across the room, still unable to move. "The room is coming down around us! I am not _well!_ "

"There is no cause for panic, Genji. You may reopen your wounds," advised the doctor.

"I am not panicking!" said Genji, clearly panicking.

"You didn't tell him?"

"He didn't remember. And there was no reason to worry him."

"I am still here!"

"And you will remain there and recover until we have this mess sorted out," replied the ape. "Reinforcements will arrive in twenty minutes, Angela. I've put the whole facility on lockdown, but your keycard will still have priority. Hold out till then, and get Genji on his feet."

"I understand." She lifted her finger off the intercom.

"Doctor Ziegler, my limbs!"

"It would be ill-advisable to bring them back online in your current state of mind," she responded, walking back to him. "I'm going to put you back under for a while and finish up. You'll be back out there in no time."

She pressed a button on one of the panels beside him. The cyborg immediately started feeling drowsy.

"You…" he mumbled, fighting to stay conscious, "not safe… must evacuate—"

She smiled kindly down at him. "You are very sweet, Genji."

That was the last thing he heard before the grasps of sleep embraced him.

* * *

Author notes

 _Hey guys! Just wanted to say thanks for all the follows and favorites, along with the reviews as well! It really motivates me to continue writing this story born from a whim, and hopefully you'll enjoy this journey as much as I do, if I can articulate it well enough._

 _I just wanted to say the structure from here on out will be a little more different. In the past, I've written until I hit my arbitrary word limit, but now I'll try to go beyond that in favor of writing a fuller story which flows better. It might mean less frequent updates, what with my exams and stuff coming up soon, but I'll try my best, when the whim takes me._

 _Thank you all once again for reading, and I hope you will stay a while as I bring you along for this journey through the universe of Overwatch!_

 _WINKEHFACE_


	8. Chapter 8

Lena sat behind Winston, her mind racing.

For a while, she just sat there and watched the ape work the controls and speak into microphones, not quite believing what she had done. In fact, she still didn't. Everything seemed to be a blur after she got the sketcher out of storage, and she didn't exactly remember when she came back to the control room.

"Lena? Lena."

She broke out of her trance. "Wha—yes?"

The ape smiled. "I said it was a job well done, setting all this in motion. This wouldn't have been possible without you."

She looked at him, not quite seeing him. "Oh. Yeah, no." The world seemed a little bit bigger from where she sat. "No problem."

Winston turned back to the controls. "Still, it was remarkable how quickly you managed to finish. That took you what, a whole of eight minutes? I barely started the reboot before you just came strolling in, hardly breaking a sweat!"

"Yes, it's a little mad, isn't it?"

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He adjusted his glasses. "Anyway, it's only a little longer before reinforcements come in, then we can go down to the root of this entire—"

Lena raised her eyes from the floor, vaguely aware at the sudden silence which took the room. "Winston?"

"Impossible."

"What's the matter?"

"I wrote that code… level two clearance! There's no way—"

"Winston!"

"Lena!" The ape turned back around to face her. "Whatever were in those aircraft is overriding the lockdown, _Athena_ just granted access to the bay doors!"

Sure enough, in the sea of vertical red lines that filled one of the screens was a lone green one which stood blinking ominously.

"If they can open one," Winston muttered to himself, "they can open all of them. It's a blanket security over the entire facility, I didn't even consider… stupid!"

"Winston." Lena mind was swept into a state of sudden clarity, a sureness which rested at her very core. "What do we do?"

"We?" He started typing rapidly on several keyboard at a time, filling up screens with code with alarming speed. " _We_ are not going to do anything. I will not put your life in danger, pilot. You will remain here while I – he picked up a long, large object which stood beside the desks – _manually_ remove our intruders."

The hulking metal thing the scientist held in his hands was a strange sight to behold. Two identical horizontal metal plates were bolted down into the main housing of the device, which at the top rested a bright red switch. The plates which flanked the housing had yellow ridges on the innermost side of them, mirroring each other. The entire thing was accented by cables and dials which Lena could only guess what they did, and if the appearance of the peculiar machine wasn't enough, there was a small warning label tagged on the side of the gadget warning against misuse and something about potential injury.

"Well," he said as he began to manipulate the dials and switches on the device, the strange thing starting to vibrate and buzz as he did so, "I suppose now is as good a time as any to test out this new prototype."

The girl stood up from the chair as the ape pulled out what looked like a spacesuit from underneath the desks and shrugged into it. "I'm going with you."

He began buckling the clasps on the suit. "As I've said, I will not jeopardize your—"

"I finished basic training and know my way around a firearm. Give me one, and I will fight."

Any trace of helplessness and doubt which Winston had seen cloud her eyes throughout her entire time here was gone. In its place, was a determination and ferocity he never seen before in her, but only in the eyes of certain soldiers.

He hesitated. "You know you don't have to."

"I _want_ to. I've been staying here freeloading off your food and lodgings, after all. It's time to return the favor." She beamed. "This is my responsibility as much as it is yours, love."

Winston chuckled despite himself. "I never saw it that way."

"I know. Now, can we go?"

The ape stood in front of her for a moment, sizing her up. Her aura was unwavering. He sighed. "Alright." Winston moved to the keyboards where he entered a number of commands. The sound of moving pistons came about the room as a section of the wall opened up to reveal a hidden cabinet.

"It looks like a carbine, it works like a carbine," Winston said as she made towards it, "but it's actually a pulse rifle. She's seen battle a few times, but she's not off worse for wear. You can trust her."

Tracer removed the weapon off the stand and pushed it into her shoulder. She looked down the sight and adjusted the aperture.

Winston smiled approvingly. "That's a good stance. What you see is what you get. Each battery holds a charge to fire twenty-five rounds of energy."

Four little canisters sat by the rifle. She picked one up and loaded it into the weapon, being sure to check the safety first. "Rate of fire?"

"Six-hundred rounds per minute," Winston replied, "this watch point isn't exactly built for the research and development of weapons, so this besides my prototype will be one of the few offensive measures on this facility. None of the engineers here have seen a single day of military training, so it's just you and me, Lena. Are you sure you're up for this?"

She cocked the weapon, put it at her side and gave him a great smile. "You don't have to ask twice, love."

"Okay," he said, looking to the screens once more. "They're past the loading bays now. We have to stop them before they reach the sleeping quarters. Follow me."

As they made through the halls to intercept them, Tracer felt doubt creep into the back of her mind. She was confident that she could hold her own, but what worried her was the fact that she might need to take a life to defend hers. She decided not to linger on that thought and instead focused on studying the weapon she held in her hands.

Winston stopped by one of the doors and pressed his ear against the door. "In here," he whispered. He pulled out a small console from seemingly out of nowhere, pushed a few buttons and peered at the screen. He cursed under his breath. "They took out surveillance. From the sound of their footsteps, they're headed for the south corridor."

The scientist pressed a button on his strange weapon, which started to emit soft sparking noises. Sparks of electricity became apparent between the yellow ridges on the twin plates. "We'll wait a while for them to pass, then ambush them with their backs facing us."

Tracer nodded. She flicked the safety off on her weapon and stacked up by the door.

After a few tense moments, Winston placed his keycard on the reader and very, very slowly opened the door. They crept through as silently as they could, listening to the sound of fading footsteps which led deeper into the facility.

"What do you think they're after?" Tracer said quietly.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He consulted the console again. "Judging by the route they are taking, they'll arrive into the central hub. That's good for us."

Winston made for the west passageway. "Change of plans. There's a platform which overlooks the hub connected to the level above. If we can cut them off there, we'll have the advantage."

The two ran through the halls and up a flight of stairs before they reached an open area, which sure enough, overlooked the hub with four doors adjacent to one another. The platform on which they stood up was supported by enormous iron chains which were bolted down the walls on either side of them. From there, Tracer could see shelves of books and furniture by pillars which supported the room in which light funneled in from a dome of glass directly above them. As they stood catching their breath, they began to hear the footsteps echoing from the door ahead. Tracer and Winston took cover behind the guardrails and hid themselves from sight.

The footsteps were close enough for them to guess what was making them. It was not human. There was the dull chunk of metal on concrete on each footstep, and they sounded heavy and slow.

"Omnics?" asked Tracer, still keeping her voice down.

"Can't be," replied Winston, "there's a transmitter built into the foundation of this place, meant to scramble the internal signals of unauthorized artificial intelligence intrinsic to omnics." He paused, thinking. "No, they must be drones, controlled from somewhere else."

She sighed in relief. It seemed like she wouldn't be taking a life today. Lifted from this burden, she said almost enthusiastically, "so when do we kill them all?"

The ape waited and listened. "Just a while longer. As soon as all of them clear the door." They waited. "Go for the ones closest to the door first. Don't let them retreat. I'll take care of the rest while they scramble for cover. My tesla cannon will need a second to recharge, so keep them suppressed until it's ready once more."

Tracer nodded.

"On three."

She checked the weapon one last time. All she ever fired at were stationary paper targets up to now, but she had faith in herself do be able to do what she needed to.

"One."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to the footsteps. _Sounds like four,_ she thought, _Five?_

"Two."

It was hard to believe that just this morning she sat sulking on the shoreline, and now here she was, preparing to engage unidentified hostiles beside a talking animal wielding an _electric cannon thing_. For better or for worse, she didn't know yet. And didn't have time to think about it.

"Three!"

Tracer stood up and brought her firearm to bear. Honing her sights onto the door they streamed from, she quickly snapped to the one closest to it and pulled the trigger. The weapon kicked into the shoulder as the target fell to the ground in a smoldering heap.

Black drones slightly larger than the build of a man started rushing to the sides of the hub, taking cover behind rails and pillars. Two of them collapsed heavily under the persuasion of Winston's Tesla cannon, bolts of electricity bouncing between them. Another three, seeing what happened, immediately split themselves up and avoided anything remotely conductive as they returned fire in the form of weapons integrated into their arms, the deafening sound of traditional gunfire in contrast to the quieter energy weapon Tracer was using resonating within the room.

In response to this, she dropped back into cover and reloaded as hostile rounds dug into it, shaking the platform.

"Six of them! Three remaining!" yelled Winston over the gunfire.

"I can see that!" replied Tracer as she slammed another battery home and peeked over her cover. The drones were split around them in a cone. Each time they tried to leave cover for one of the doorways, Tracer fired a volley of shots, sending them back. "I got them pinned, Winston!" she shouted, as they blindly returned fire. A stray round grazed her cheek. She stood her ground, feeling hot liquid trail down her face. "Two o'clock! He's making for the exit!"

An arc of high voltage electricity found the drone halfway, effectively halting him in his tracks. "Right ahead of us is out of my range, take care of him!"

"I can't!" she yelled back, focusing her fire on the hostile to their left. "This one really wants us dead!"

Every time Tracer stopped firing at the drone, it would immediately peek out of its cover and return fire at an alarming pace. It stood behind a shelf laden with tomes which her rounds couldn't seem to punch through.

The pulse rifle clicked. "Get down!" she screamed as she dropped back behind the rails, pulling Winston with her. The space where the ape's head was a second ago became filled with a hail of gunfire. Tracer fished out another charge and slammed it into the rifle.

"Well," Winston said, "It looks like _we_ are the ones getting pinned now."

"You're hurt," she breathed, when she saw the crimson oozing from his arm.

He smiled. "So are you." The ape started crawling towards the exit, keeping his head down. "I think it's time we made a tactical retreat. We can ambush them again when they get a little further."

"Guerrilla tactics?"

"I still prefer scientist. I mean, I suppose I am technically a gorilla—but I'd—"

"Winston," she interrupted.

"Yes?"

She paused. "Never mind." She got on her hands and knees and followed him.

A scream of metal. Tracer's world suddenly lurched to the right as the platform gave from under her. She slid across the floor now turned vertical to land heavily on the guardrails. The large figure of Winston followed, but instead of coming to a stop on the guardrails, was sent falling to the level below.

He landed headfirst and was instantly knocked out, the tesla cannon falling beside him.

"Winston!" Tracer screamed, and without thinking, blinked to his side and shook him. "Winston, wake up!"

She could hear the drones advancing. Turning around, she put her entire clip into the torso of the first one. It tumbled to the ground. Her hands shaking, she pulled out the last canister of ammunition she had—which was immediately shot out by the second drone as it came around the collapsed platform. It whirred and fizzed out pathetically in her trembling hand.

Up close, Tracer could make out all the minute details of her assailant. It approached her in a heavy, mechanical step which shook the ground she sat on. It was accented in grey throughout with little and large pipes running in and out of its humanoid body. Its head was a vertical rectangular box which stood on broad metal shoulders with a horizontal red visor at its eye line.

It stopped in front of the girl and pointed its weapon between her eyes. She stared at the weapon, noting its cylindrical shape which encompassed the barrel, with the sights integrated to the side instead of the top. It was very shiny. _This isn't such a bad way to die._

Suddenly, the glass dome above them exploded. A shower of shining shrapnel rained onto them, winking in the sunlight. The drone rotated and directed his weapon to the shattered skylight. A white chopper descended down into the room, the noise of the blades overbearing. Books and everything that wasn't nailed down was sent flying from the chopper's downdraft.

As it got lower, a blonde man clad in blue armor came into view. He leaned out of the helicopter and fired what looked like blue rockets which spiraled in the air before it impacted on the drone's weapon-arm before it had a chance to fire.

Another man, in a black shirt, peeked out beside him. His skin was darker with russet hair which fell to the sides of his face under a strange hat which Tracer only seen in movies. He looked at the crippled drone, then to the sky, where the sun sat at its apex in the middle of the dome they crashed through.

"Heh, would you look at the time," he said, pulling out a large silver handgun from the holster on his hip, staring down the mech. "It's high noon."


	9. Chapter 9

Lena remained sat on the ground, staring at the fallen mech. Volts of electricity sparked sporadically throughout it, but it was of no doubt that it was no longer a threat. Still, she kept her eye on it, afraid it might rise again.

She vaguely picked up on the blonde man shouting orders to the helicopter pilot before descending down a rope, and was promptly followed by the russet haired man. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blue-armored man approach her and past her to Winston's side, where he placed two fingers on his neck.

"Out cold," he said, "but he'll live."

The other man followed closely behind, but stopped in front of Lena and knelt down. He fished a red checkered handkerchief out of his jeans and offered it to her. "That thing won't hurt you anymore."

She looked up at him and wordlessly took the handkerchief, unsure of what to do with it. He gently took it from her and wiped at her eyes and cheeks. She didn't realize she was crying.

"Lena Oxton?" the blonde man asked, moving in front of her and lowering himself to get a better look at her face. "Are you the _Slipstream_ pilot?"

At this, Lena clumsily got to her feet, becoming more aware of herself. "Commander Morrison! Yes, sir! Lena Oxton, survivor of the _Slipstream_ incident," she gushed.

"Call me Jack, kid." He smiled. "Everyone does. Well, except the grunts. So please, at ease. You did a fine job defending the watch point, pilot."

"I only did what I had to, sir."

He laughed. "I doubt it. Knowing how Winston here is, I'm willing to bet you volunteered yourself. And I appreciate that." Jack walked over to the service rifle Lena used, now lying across the floor, and picked it up. "This sure brings back memories," he said fondly, looking the weapon over. "I did three tours with her. Never failed once, would you believe it?"

"It belonged to you?" Lena breathed, surprised. "I didn't know."

"Not anymore, though." He nudged the blue-plated energy rifle by his side. "Got a new issue, so I told Winston he could keep it. Still though, I'm impressed. It looks like it did from the day I first held it into battle."

The commander looked to the adjacent doorways. "Are there anymore hostiles left in the facility?"

"No, sir. Or at least, I don't think so," she replied.

"You will drop the formalities, that's an order," he said firmly, but kindly.

"Yes si—Yes."

He sighed. "After all, I owe you an apology, Miss Oxton."

Lena was taken aback. "What?"

"I was part of the conference that agreed to your confinement within the facility on grounds of prototype testing, the one you have on your chest now." He gestured to it. "Though I wasn't particularly cozy with the idea, I decided it was for the best. But it's still no excuse to denying you contact with anyone else on the outside, especially when your survival is left as a mystery. So I am sorry."

"Oh, no!" She backed up, waving her hands. "No big! I would've really been gone if it weren't for all of you, especially Winston! Please, don't apologize. Besides, I really like this pla—"

"Now that, is a straight up lie." The hoarse voice came from the prone figure of the great ape beside them, which at that moment started to pick himself up, clutching his head. "Ouch. That's going to leave a mark."

"Winston!" Lena forgot herself and jumped on him, hugging his arm. "You're okay!"

"Less okay, less okay!" he hollered, "injured arm!"

"Sorry!"

He straightened his glasses which had been knocked askew during his fall. "It's going to take more than that to get rid of me. But where are my manners?" He turned to the other two. "It's a pleasure to see you back at the watch point, Jack. Albeit under… unfavorable circumstances. And you! You must be Jesse, Jesse McCree!"

The man tipped his hat. "Howdy." He turned to Jack. "You didn't tell me y'all had a talking monk—"

"Scientist!"

He gave the scientist a strange look. "Uh… huh."

An awkward silence followed. After a moment, Winston cleared his throat and moved over to the drone, which had since stopped sparking electricity. "Model B-28," he said, more to himself, "built and deployed for crowd control, discontinued years ago for brutality controversies. And a modification to the standard firearms made to fire nine-millimeters."

"To what?" asked Morrison.

"Five-point-five-six by forty-five millimeter, intermediate NATO," he replied grimly, studying the drone. "This is worrying. Why and how did they come here, armed with this kind of firepower?" Winston pulled out his console, now battered and worse for wear, and plugged a cable into the drone connecting the two. "It might take a while to crack the encryption on the drones, but I think I should be able to… ah. Here it is." He tapped a few buttons on the little device. "Jammed communications, scan immunity, frequency evasion, and on top of that, looking at the navigation algorithm, they knew exactly how to move in response to our imaging satellite, as though they knew exactly where it was to follow the clouds to avoid it!"

"Sounds like you have a traitor in your ranks," remarked McCree.

"Don't forget; you're one of us now," responded the soldier, "this is as much your problem as it is ours."

McCree laughed. "Don't let Reyes hear you saying that. He's sure been down in the dumps lately."

Winston picked up one of the drones and slung it across his shoulder. "I'm bringing this to the command center for further analysis. I expect to crack the encryption in a couple of hours." He hesitated. "And as much as I hate to admit it, Mister McCree—"

"McCree is fine."

"…McCree here might have a point." The ape scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "The only reason why they managed to get into the facility in the first place was because they had a backdoor of some kind for the unique security measures on the rock." He sighed. "More sleepless nights, but at least there's something to do. Lena, would you please escort our guests to the mess hall? And you must be starving as well."

"What about you?" asked Lena.

Winston grew visibly uncomfortable. "Well, I've already had a breakfast… or two."

"We're cutting on the peanut butter, Winston."

"Lena!" cried the ape, scandalized. "You would suggest—"

"Yes, I would." She turned to the others. "Follow me, the mess hall's by the—"

"Winston! Lena!"

The party turned in unison, facing the south doorway. There, leaning against the doorframe and gasping for air, was the doctor. She looked more exhausted than she did earlier that day, but despite this, her face exhibited a great worry and distress. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Where…" Mercy stared at the two in question she called, then slowly moved her gaze to the soldier and bounty hunter, then to the disarray they stood in. A seagull flew in through the hole in the roof, circled the room cawing loudly for a few moments before making a casual landing on the doctor's head.

"Wha…" She finally looked above her to the sundered skylight from whence the bird came, the bird adjusting itself so it didn't fall off. "What in the world happened here?"

"Angela!" exclaimed Winston, "I thought you were still in the operating theater."

"I was," Mercy said, vaguely aware of the bird perched on top of her head, which ruffled its feathers with its beak. "When I tried to reach you on the intercoms, there was no response. None of the engineers I contacted could reach you either, and there was no indication pointing to where you might be. I abandoned my patient to find the command center empty and you and Lena missing, so answer me this; _what happened here?_ "

"Ah… well… you see." Winston kept his eyes on the seagull, which started to pick at the stray strands of hair on the her head. He quickly summarized the sequence of events that led to the four of them standing beside a fallen platform, downplaying the danger they were in while fighting off the drones.

The doctor listened in silence and kept it for several moments after Winston was done, closing her eyes. "So not only did you fail to give me an update on the situation," she said, anger and annoyance bleeding into her voice, "you put yourself in a dangerous position where you might have be severely injured, or _killed_." She took notice of the firearm Lena held to her side. "On top of giving Lena a weapon, and bringing her along with you."

The pilot raised her hands. "Doctor Ziegler, I asked to come. I wanted to help protect this place."

"And you allowed her," the doctor said quietly.

Winston looked off to the side. He had nothing to say for himself. If he was aware of danger they would be getting into, he never would have considered it.

But he also couldn't deny that he would have been killed if Lena wasn't there, though he wasn't going to tell Mercy that.

The fraught silence dragged on, an aura of bitterness and disappointment radiating throughout the room from under the seagull's bottom.

Morrison cleared his throat. "Angela, Miss Oxton went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure this facility and its inhabitants were kept safe. She refused to stand idle and instead took up arms to defend it. What would you have done, if you were faced with the same decision under the same circumstances?"

Angela opened her mouth to answer… and closed it. She screwed up her face in thought for a few moments before slumping her shoulders in surrender.

The soldier nodded. "Exactly. You would have done the same. Angela, I just came back from a mission in south-east Asia. Would you like to know what I saw? Thief and violence in the middle of the streets in broad daylight. In a crippling silence. No one stood up to help, to put an end to the madness. Everyone shut their windows and sat in their corners and counted ants. It's not wrong to want to preserve your life, but it takes a hero to put their life before others." He turned to the pilot and smiled proudly down at her. "She did what she felt she had to do, without being asked to and without hesitation. There has been a real shortage of people like her lately, and the world could always use more heroes."

The doctor looked at each of the four in turn, wondering how to press her case. A glimmer of a tear was visible on the corner of Lena's eye. She came to a rest on McCree.

"Hey, don't look at me." He shrugged. "I know a great deal of men with less guts than she has. You should've seen the look in her eye when she was gunnin' them down and when she had a gun pressed to 'er head."

Mercy silently mouthed his last few words.

"Be that as it may," Winston quickly said, "I know I should have radioed in to let you know what was going on, but with all the confusion, it's hard to keep track of anything. Not that it's an excuse."

She sighed. "Alright, you win. But you will never leave me in the dark again, you understand?"

Winston smiled. "That's a promise, doctor. You can head off, Lena. I'll just get back to—"

"And where do you think you're going?" interrupted Mercy.

The ape turned to her, confused. "Uh…"

"Don't think I didn't see your arm, Winston. And you, Lena. Both of you are in need of immediate medical attention."

"It's just a scratch—" Lena cut herself short at the look in the doctor's eye. The bird cawed at her, almost mockingly. It seemed to have found a comfortable spot to rest on the doctor's head.

Morrison rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, we know which way it is. Look for me after you're done. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

He smiled at the questioning glance of the pilot, and headed for the north passageway along with McCree.

"Well, come on then. The sooner we have you two looked at, the better." Mercy turned back towards where she came.

Winston couldn't ignore it any longer. "Angela, you _are_ aware of the bird that's made a nest of your hair, right?"

"Oh? Brandon here? Of course." She reached up and tenderly patted the seagull. "I've grown rather fond of him in the last few minutes. Perhaps I will keep him."

"She named it," whispered Tracer to herself in disbelief as they followed Mercy back to the operating theater.

* * *

Author Notes:

 _Apologies that updates have been less frequent as of late. It's hard to get into the mood for writing with me looking for ways to procrastinate in light of my imminent exams. Updates will come more often afterwards, I hope. Also, RIP Genji on PTR. FeelsBadMan. F._


	10. Chapter 10

It was dark. That he knew.

He once again found himself waking up in darkness in a room illuminated in a green tint only to him. It was a different room this time. There were no windows, just bare white walls on a bed stacked with its back to one of them in the middle. About the room was a mess of medical apparatuses which nature Genji could only guess. It was everywhere. Small pieces of intricate, shining metal was sprawled across multiple table tops in the room, on the floor, used as papers weights to documents carelessly stacked on tables with a few stray pieces sitting forlorn on the floor.

He felt more at peace in this room than the one he first woke up in. The first room was clean, tidy, a vacuum which suffocated him. This one had evidence of people working and passing through, busy, a personality. He found the silence comforting. As though the world was in a perfect still, patiently waiting for him to wake up.

The cyborg looked to his right and found that he was not alone. In a brilliant gold that shone in his vision against the white and metal was the resting head of the good doctor. She was fast asleep. He was glad to see that someone had laid a blanket across her shoulders, serenely rising and falling. He allowed himself to stay this way for a while. The room was not, as he thought, filled in a perfect silence. If he listened very carefully, he could just barely make out the soft breathing of Angela, which seemed more evident the more he watched her.

In this moment, Genji did not think about what his was life before. He watched the sleeping face of his savior before him, and swore he would never forget it. _War,_ he thought, _bombs. Shelter. Metal walls. Home. Loss. War, bombs, planes…_

He looked up at the white ceiling above him. _Planes. Planes… planes?_

 _Black bodies, like obsidian._

Genji slowly got up from the bed for the second time. His metal joints whirred. Taking great care to not wake Mercy, he carefully lifted her into it and tucked her in. When he tried to pull away, she sleepily grasped his lingering arm and pulled it closer.

" _Vati_ ," she said, smiling. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

He stroked her head very softly for a few moments. When she relaxed enough, he peeled his arm away from her and made for the door, taking care not to step on anything. Light flooded into the room and quickly disappeared as the cyborg silently opened and shut the door behind him.

The sky burned a deep crimson as the sun made its indolent descend over the sea. Genji paced briskly across closed doors and hallways, taken by a strong sense of déjà vu. His thoughts were a mess. He wasn't sure how much time had passed while he was incapacitated, and the exact sequence of events that led to this moment. However, he did know of what happened and the danger he saw, and worried for the people of the watch point.

This time around wandering the facility, Genji tried to open doors in hopes of finding someone to talk to. Anxiety gradually crept onto him the more doors he opened to find empty or locked. The block where he was held in seemed to be uninhabited.

After what felt like an eternity to the cyborg, he came upon a door not like the others vaguely labelled _heavy machinery_. He pushed the door open.

Complex structures of metal crammed into the small space gave Genji no concept of where it started and ended. The whole thing looked like a large metal dragon coiled into itself in hibernation. Just when he was about to close the door, something caught his eye.

In the far corner of the room, a clipboard was propped up against a peculiar looking metal stretcher which upon was tacked a picture of a very familiar looking face. Genji approached it and picked it up.

He remembered that this was how he looked like before he lost his memories. In this picture, the young version of himself was not wearing his robes and armor, but a regular white shirt. Again, he was smiling. A smile that did not reach his eyes. They looked unsettled.

The cyborg read on. On the clipboard there were details about his height, weight and gender, to name some of the few he understood. The more he skimmed through though, the more the information seemed to get more obfuscated.

"Subject descent, average body mass index…" he read aloud, flipping through the pages. "Arrived in critical condition. Survivability odds… ten percent. Successful operation. Artificial heart and most internal operating devices obsolete. Refer to chart B." He flipped to the end of the document. "Vision correcting visor. Enhanced vision and strength. Mental faculties unchanged. Stage one complete. Close accessed database: _Project Regicide_."

He put the clipboard down, confused. _Project Regicide? Stage one?_ Deciding to leave the matter for later, he resumed his search.

A section opened up to a corridor which adjoined the building he was in to another in one of the stairwells, and sure enough, while he walked through it, he could see the cluster of structures which made up the west side of the facility through the windows. It was only a few minutes of aimless wandering until he finally found human life.

"…return home. The next shuttle out. This I promise." The voice was one Genji had never heard before, an authoritative tone on a husky voice.

"Just like that?" This voice, he recognized. It belonged to the girl who sat on the beach with him, and got dirt in her hair rolling on the ground. The two sat at a white plastic table across each other in a wide space peppered with other such tables, with stalls across the walls with its shutters closed. They sat under a dim row of lights which only lit up their section in the cafeteria, which seemed to be closed for the day.

"I thought you would be happy to hear this."

The cyborg could hear her hesitation. "I am. It's just that it's so sudden… everyone on the watch point, they did so much for me. How am I supposed to say goodbye?"

The blonde man smiled when he heard this. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, deep in thought.

"You think you'll never see them again." He raised his eyes. "That you will just go home and think of everything that's happened here as a bad dream."

"Not a bad dream," she mumbled.

A moment of silence passed between them before the man cleared his throat. "Lena Oxton, I'm officially offering you a positional directive, should you choose to accept it."

He continued under Lena's questioning gaze. "You will be granted four weeks of paid leave upon your departure of this watch point, then you will be required to report back here under your new position as the lead tester for weapons research and development. Under the supervision of Winston."

A smile slowly dawned upon her face, like a sun being freed from a veil of clouds.

"You will hold this position indefinitely, until such time when I personally see fit to relocate you for special weapons and tactics training for potential frontline work. Who knows? Maybe one day I will have you standing by my side on the field."

Without a word, the girl stood up from the table, straightened, and brought her arm up with her fingers resting on her brow. The man stood up in kind and returned the salute.

"Dismissed, pil—" He brought his arm down, dropping the salute. "Soldier," he corrected.

Lena stared at him for a moment, a strange expression on her face. She tackled his middle-section in a hug before sprinting for the door just as suddenly. Genji stayed in the shadows and let her pass. Her footsteps rang across the floors which eventually dissolved into silence.

The soldier sat back down at the table and sighed. "And you, whoever you are, how long are you planning to lurk out there?"

Genji stepped into the hall. "How did you know?"

"All that stuff they pumped into me can't be for nothing." He smirked. "You might want to try moving a little quieter next time. On the balls of your feet. How can I help you?"

The cyborg walked into the room, feeling unsure of himself. "The black planes I saw earlier… and everyone here, are they all al—Eeaaaah!"

For the second time that day, Genji found himself screaming in an embarrassing falsetto as something coiled around his throat and seized it tightly.

"So you're the robot guy I've heard so much about," came a baritone voice from behind him. "Nice to meet'cha."

Jack pinched his nose bridge. "McCree, he's not a threat. And if he so wills it, he could snap your arm like a twig."

The grip around Genji's neck relaxed. "I know, I read the reports too, even if you think I didn't. Just wanted to see how far I could push my luck." The stranger moved in front of him and gave him a good looking at. He whistled. "Damn. You look much more impressive in person. And you glow. What's up with that?"

"Anyway, Mister Shimada… Mister Shimada?"

Genji overcame his shock and stared blankly at the commander. "Who?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Genji Shimada, that's you, isn't it?"

Genji rapped his fist into an open palm. "Oh yes. _Shimada_. That is who I am. Indeed."

The two stared at each other, the bounty hunter glancing between them interchangeably. "I suppose it was no exaggeration then," he said, "the reports about his memory too."

"Anyway…" the soldier continued, "the planes you saw off the coast carried unmanned infantry drones, which managed to infiltrate the base. Winston and Miss Oxton managed to stall them long enough from getting further in before we showed up." He gestured to himself and McCree. "They were very brave and their lives were very much in danger, but they only sustained minor injuries. Of course, this wouldn't have been possible without you, Shimada." He nodded to him. "I heard about your warning. If it weren't for it, there's no doubt that the watch point would have been compromised, and the number of civilian causalities could only be left up to the imagination. So I formally thank you for your help. Your presence here was invaluable." The commander stood up and approached the cyborg, sticking out a hand. "I don't think I introduced myself. I'm Jack Morrison, strike commander of _Overwatch_."

Genji took his hand and shook it. " _Overwatch?_ "

"Did they really tell you nothing?" groaned the commander.

"What's there to say?" McCree shrugged. "Defenders of peace and justice, response team for the _Omnic Crisis_ , yada yada."

"Omnic… _Omnic crisis…_ " Genji's head started to hurt.

"Shimada?"

Bright vivid images flashed against Genji's closed eyelids, disappearing as swiftly as they came. Pain hammered into his temples with each passing one. A man in a blue robe. A courtyard of pink-leafed trees. A sharp scent of incense and salt.

Genji found himself lower to the ground, being held up by something.

"I'm not going to lie, metal man," said a voice, thick with physical exertion, "you are not light. And I'm no spring chicken."

He found his balance and pushed himself up. "I apologize."

McCree puffed, hands on his knees. "Hey, don't mention it, partner."

The commander was watching Genji closely. "Did you remember something?"

"No, not exactly. Bright lights and colors. I cannot make sense of it." His body betrayed his emotions. Despite the dread and tension he felt, his arms and legs were cool and still, whirring as usual. At least he could still feel his heart, hammering against his chest. He took a moment to calm himself. "You thank me for being here, but where was I, when everything happened?"

Jack said nothing.

"Unaware. Asleep. While everyone was fighting."

He kept his silence.

The cyborg paused and bowed his head. "But even if I was not, what could I have done? I do not know how to fight. I even screamed, like a little girl, when I was grabbed from behind."

"The fault isn't yours," McCree said as indifferently as he could manage while flexing a bicep. "I'm just too good."

"And what are you going to do about it?" asked Jack.

The cyborg hesitated. "I want to learn… learn to fight. I want to know how to protect people." He thought about Mercy and Lena. _And Winston too, I suppose._

The soldier smiled at him. "Good answer. Unfortunately, you can't do it here."

"Not here?"

"Not here," he confirmed. "Korea."


	11. Chapter 11

Jack could hear the door slam open.

"Explain yourself."

"Not even a good morning?" The commander didn't even bother looking in her direction, instead choosing to focus on the book he was reading. "What happened to common courtesy, Angela?"

"Good morning," she said curtly, not attempting to be cordial. "Now please, explain yourself."

Jack Morrison perused the text attentively. "I'm afraid… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Jack," the doctor said impatiently.

"Hold on."

His eyes moved slowly, carefully examining each line as he took his time to finish the passage. Upon doing so, he took off his reading glasses, set them aside, and casually flicked the book shut. With an extremely loud clap which echoed through the corridors, the book burst into pieces and crumbled from his hand.

"Ah." The soldier clicked his tongue. "It happened again."

"Jack Morrison."

"Don't worry, I'll replenish the issue. I was just getting to the good part too…"

" _Jack._ "

"Angela? You look terrible. Did you just wake—"

"Explain to me," she interrupted, "why Genji is going to _Korea._ "

"What's wrong with Korea?" he inquired defensively. "It's a nice place. Cool air, quiet… though I'm not a big fan of their music."

"Enough," she hissed.

He sighed. "What exactly did the Shimada tell you?" He got up from the table and approached the wall of mirrors away from her, which lent the small library an illusion of greater size.

The doctor's face was blushed in anger. "He told me he was going to fight, that he was going to take part in all this senseless violence."

"Did he say why, or how?"

"That's not important—"

"You stormed out of the room as soon as you heard that, didn't you?" He folded his hands behind his back and watched her carefully through the mirror. "After all, patience was never much your strong suit."

Her face grew redder. "I will not stand for—"

"Stand for what, Angela?" he asked coldly. "We are at _war_. Every day, more lives are being lost to it. Have you forgotten the cause which saved the Shimada's life?"

"His name is Genji," she replied, "and how dare you insinuate my ignorance of dying people. I am a _doctor_."

"And I am a soldier. If war and violence disgusts you so, does my being chemically augmented to fight in such wars revolt you too? Is my existence grotesque and incomprehensible to you as an active participant of such an ugly, evil thing?"

Mercy looked off to the side. "That's not fair."

"You're absolutely right. It's not fair. Since you didn't listen, allow me to enlighten you. _Genji_ is going to Korea to learn how to defend something. An idea, a place, a life, it doesn't matter. Violence isn't as repulsive as you believe it is, Angela. It's about what you're fighting for."

"He doesn't remember anything." She pursed her lips. "Do you wish to impose war upon him? His mind shares a likeness of a _child_ —"

"—and you his mother?"

Mercy held her silence.

"Don't forget, he is still a son of the Shimada clan. He may not understand this now, but what about tomorrow, next month, if and when he remembers? They are a family of criminals and killers. I'd like to show him another world of other loyalties apart from that; our world."

"Genji is not a killer," she said quietly.

"What's the matter with you, Angela? Look at me. Why that look in your eyes? You know better than to get emotionally invested with your patients."

"This is different."

"That it is," acknowledged the soldier solemnly, sighing.

"But why Korea? Why not here? I still need to keep an eye on him, there's still much to be confirmed about his new body keeping him alive."

"Political reasons. Don't scowl, you look ten years older when you do that. His survival is best kept a secret. We don't know why he's been found within an inch of his life when we did, but someone wanted him dead. It's due to the existing hostility between Korea and Japan that it would be the best decision to hide him there; right under the Japanese's nose. Speaking of proximity, it would also help with the initiation of phase two."

He walked back to the table and switched off the lamp. "Besides, Torbjörn's at the Korean base as well, he'll have no problem maintaining him. After all, he did help design—"

" _Weaponize_ ," corrected Mercy bitterly.

"—the suit," Jack continued, "not to mention that I have contacts in Japan I can call on for his combat training, as I have no doubt he would have received some form of as a Shimada. We'll just have to bring it out of him, whatever it might be. And it wouldn't hurt to give him a taste of the world outside the isolation of this rock."

Silence reigned while the doctor collected her thoughts. "Do you not think it is a painful—" she began, "—no, _cruel_ irony to all this? And what is to say he will agree? I do not like it."

The commander approached her and looked her in the eye, where desperation welled in turquoise. "Some would call it destiny. Personally, I don't care. I just do what's needed to be done. That's all. And the first step to understanding that is knowing there are things in this world more important than any of us. Genji, you, or me."

He walked past her towards the door. "Have breakfast with me. I'm hungry."

She hesitated. "Jack?"

"Angela?"

"How can you stand it?" Her voice was soft, almost inaudible. "The wailing? The screams? Do they not haunt you, awake or otherwise?"

The soldier stopped at the threshold. Silence hung stagnant in the air. "They did. But I got used to it." He walked out into the corridor. "Maybe that's the scariest part."

Genji checked everywhere.

He walked through the entire east block trying to find the doctor to no avail. The cyborg thought she would be happy to hear him take an active role in _Overwatch_ , like an esteemed hero the commander told him he could be. What he didn't expect was for her to sleepily rub sleep from her eyes, then stand at full attention before walking out without a word before he barely started telling her about it.

At first, he went around the ladies' toilets and awkwardly called out for her from the outside, thinking it was a simple stomachache which elicited her strange behavior. Now though, he felt that there's something more, something hidden from him that eluded his understanding.

Uneasy smiles, averted eyes and clearing of throats. The cyborg pretended he didn't notice, but those things took the place of answers when he asked certain questions to the people of the watch point. He didn't really mind, understanding the position they were in relative to his, but he wished that they would just tell it to him straight, instead of skirting around the issue and having to listen to their thought-to-be discreet circumlocution.

Sleeping and strolling about seemed like the only things he had been doing on the watch point. He was glad that he was going to leave, in a way, more due to the restlessness creeping onto him than anything. Crossing into an outdoor junction, Genji saw Lena sitting on the grass beneath a tree across the courtyard, which gave a view of a panorama of the rippling sea.

She was sat hugging her knees to her chest, and unlike the previous similar encounter he had with her, she did not look as dispirited as before. No, there was a contemplative nature about her face this time as she gazed out into the open waters, as though she was thinking about a particularly difficult puzzle.

The cyborg walked over to her, crossing the ground where metal gave way to green. "Greetings."

"Woah!" She jumped violently and snapped her head to him.

"I apologize."

"If you're really sorry, you'd stop doing that!" yelled the girl before calming down some. "Come to think of it, this is kind of how we first met, yeah?"

"Very much so." The cyborg sat himself down beside her, crossing his mechanical legs.

"You ever get that feeling of déjà vu?" laughed Lena.

"Only too many times," he sighed, "for only remembering so little."

At odds with herself, she gazed back into the sea where she watched fish break its surface and return, leaving white flowers of splash. "Genji, can I tell you — no, show you something?"

"If it will ease your disquiet."

The girl slowly got to her feet. "Don't freak out, okay?"

"My heart is strong," he said as she stood in front of him and looked past him, taking on a visage of measured caution. He figured that after being jumped by the eccentric American, he could suppress or at the very least hide his shock if something truly were to happen. "I am sure it is not as bad as you—"

A flash of blue light. Genji found himself looking out into the sea as his vision adjusted itself from the girl which stood in it a moment before. _Such a nice view_ , he thought peacefully. Reaching behind his head, he depressed the pistons which held his visor in place. With a hiss of escaping air, he pulled it off and looked around. There was nothing in sight to wipe it with.

"Genji?" came the voice of the missing girl from behind him.

He twisted his body to face her. The wind tugged at her blurred outline. She was some distance away. Silently, he beckoned her with a hand.

Taking some of the white fabric which made up her shirt when she got close enough, he meticulously cleaned his visor before pushing it back onto his face. He gave it a moment to snap in place and activate, listening to the hum that always came with it.

"All right," he finally said, his voice a little hoarse, "what was it you wanted to show me?"

She stared at him. He stared back.

"I uh… just did." She touched her index fingers together. "It's a… a bit weird, don't you think?"

He stared at her. She stared back.

Wordlessly, he got up and walked back from where he came.

"Genji? Love? Where are you going?"

He continued walking. "I must find Doctor Ziegler. I think my broken is felled when I calibration just now."

"What? Genji?!"

"Yes," he agreed, entering the complex and returning to his search for the doctor.

* * *

Author Notes:

 _Exams are over, finally._

 _Sorry for the long break between chapters, but it'll be frequent from now on. It'll only be a few weeks before I start interning, so we'll see how it goes when it comes. Nonetheless, I'll keep you guys updated about coming chapters if there's any news of delay._

 _And don't worry, I won't abandon the story. I'm having too much of a blast writing it!_

 _While we're here, I would like to thank each and every one, and I really mean this, each and every one of you which take the time to read all this, and though I don't reply to every review, I truly appreciate every favorite, follow, and review I receive. Whether it be on a good or bad note, my impression for this will never change. If I have done enough to earn your attention, it's my prolonged duty to sustain it._


	12. Chapter 12

"Oh, Genji! Up and about I see! Genji?"

Genji looked up to meet the quizzical eyes of the ape, actively maintaining eye contact for fear of him disappearing inexplicably from where he stood.

"Fancy bumping into you here," said the ape, "I was actually on my way back from collecting something to mark your induction into _Overwatch_."

The cyborg found his voice. "It is all confirmed, then?"

He replied with a throaty laugh. "In _Overwatch_ , you quickly learn that hardly anything gets confirmed or officiated. It seems like most of the things that happen around here are often the result of the whims and quirks of its inhabitants." He ambled past him, gesturing with a hand. "Paperwork comes later if at all. It's understandable seeing how things may come up without sparing us the luxury of time for consideration. Your arrival here for example. It also helps with the clandestine nature of our work, in one sector in particular. Follow me, we can talk in the command center while I fill you in on what this is all about."

"I'm looking for Doctor Ziegler."

"Wasn't she with you? Did you lose her?"

Winston's face visibly darkened after Genji gave him an account of what happened. "I think I may have an idea of where she might be. Don't worry though, it's nothing to concern yourself over. She'll find us on her own when all is said and done."

"Oh, speaking of paperwork," Winston said as he glanced back, "I've arranged for transportation for you and Lena. The shuttle leaves tomorrow at noon. It'd take you to mainland where you'll take another carrier bound for Korea." He held the door open. "Have a seat, I just have to set this up before I hand it over to you."

He continued onto the panels where he pulled out a small silver case from seemingly out of nowhere which he in turn also opened, and resting in black styrofoam padding was a little chrome device about the size of a finger.

Winston placed the rectangular contraption atop a circular platform on the desk which started to glow after it made contact. After a moment of Winston looking back and forth between it and the monitor before him typing on his keyboard easily, he retrieved it and approached the cyborg.

"Now," started Winston, holding up the shiny piece of metal, "this right here is a little device that we supply to our _Overwatch_ operatives. Think of it as a dog-tag, with the added functionality of GPS tracking to the closest meter and communications capabilities. It's radio wave though, so it won't work across large distances or if there's interference in the area."

"I am not a dog. I am human," Genji declared.

The ape furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not…" He paused, considering his words. "All of us have something like this. For Mercy, it takes the form of a transparent contact lens she wears on her left eye. For Jack, it's numerous microscopic nano-bots in his bloodstream. I know, I know… it doesn't sound exactly pleasant, but the point of these tags is to make it so that in the event of a capture of any of us, they can still remain on our persons and usable with the perpetrators none the wiser."

"It's actually astounding to think how technology have come this far," mused the scientist, turning the device in his hand. "This is actually one of the earlier models, and it's huge compared to the ones we have available to us now. Well, without further ado — He carefully squeezed it, and with a soft _click_ , three metal needlelike protrusions extended from either side on the length side chrome, folding into itself and wriggling about in an uncanny resemblance of a spider behind held by its back – we can begin the implant."

The chair toppled onto the ground as the cyborg jumped backwards rapidly. "Get that thing _away_ from _me!"_

"I admit," said the ape, looking at the writhing metal legs with a vague expression, "it's not the most elegant bio-tag in the world, but it gets the job done." He glanced back to the cyborg, now at the other end of the room. "I'm more surprised at the distance you managed to cover with one leap. Backwards, no less."

"It is a monstrosity! An insult to all creation! An affront to all that is good and right in this world!"

The tiny legs went limp.

"You hurt its feelings," observed Winston.

" _Feelings?_ " cried Genji, slowly shuffling sideways to the door which led to the sanctuary of an appendage free hallway, all the time watching Winston's hand cautiously. "That _thing_ does not have feelings!"

"I don't understand what you're so worried about!"

"The—the legs! Why with the legs?"

"It's needed for it to adhere itself to your person."

" _Adhere?_ " exclaimed Genji, his voice breaking, "to me?" He was almost to the door now. "I will not allow it. Never! To my _last breath—_ "

The door swung wide and came to a stop when it connected with the side of the cyborg's head. Discombobulated, he slid down the wall and sat heavily upon the floor.

"Genji?" Someone crossed into the room and peeked around the door. His metal encased head was still vibrating from the impact. "Is that you?"

"Angela! We were just talking about you. We're currently in the process of providing Genji his bio-tag." He raised it for emphasis, the thin metal legs glimmering under the lamplight as they clawed at the air. "He's not taking it very well."

"I told you before, Winston," sighed the doctor in exasperation, "activate it _only_ after you get behind him. It gives even me goosebumps just looking at it."

"I forgot."

She rounded the door and lowered, offering the cyborg a hand. "Genji, are you alright? I should have been more careful with the door."

"'s 'kay," he answered in a slur. Grasping her hand, he started to hoist himself up, which led to the doctor losing her balance under his weight, and collapsing on top of him.

Angela scrambled off of his prone form, blushing beet red. "Ah, I'm so sorry! I forgot."

"'s 'kay."

Winston paced across the room. "Now seems like a pretty good time to do it."

"Give it here, I'll take care of it."

Goosebumps aggressively rose upon the surface of the doctor's skin as she carefully extracted the device from the ape, reached behind the cyborg and carefully placed it legs-first to the small of his back. The little thing quelled its frenzy when it made contact with him. It felt around and took some time to orient itself before scurrying hidden between two plates of armor in the middle of his back, and plunged its appendages into six tiny holes found there, firmly embedding itself into his armor.

Winston touched a button on a panel and spoke into the microphone. "Genji, can you hear me?"

Genji jumped and sat up quickly. He wore a grimace of pain nobody could see. "Loud! Very loud—"

Realizing his mistake, the ape turned a dial counter-clockwise for two full turns. "Better?"

"Very much so."

"Sorry about that."

The cyborg slowly turned to face him. Stoicism, annoyance or acceptance, it could've meant anything. The scientist wondered if it was possible to modify his system to change the color of its glow based on his general mood. It's not very easy trying to read a man from a faceplate.

"Well, now that's done with…" Winston returned behind the counters and fumbled with something beneath them, and pulled up a hunk a mangled metal with numerous wires and cabling snaking out of it. He dropped it on the table with a thud, shaking mugs and monitors. "The encryption on these things are actually more difficult to crack than I thought it'd be, so I don't know how long it'd take to do so, if at all."

"Are those… the things that attacked?" asked Genji.

Winston nodded and sighed. "I'll see what I can do, but I suppose in the meantime I should submit a report to the board and make a request for counter-intelligence measures. I'm not overly fond of the idea of leaked information." With a troubled expression, the ape looked at the mess on the table for another moment before clapping his hands together, his eyes lighting up. "But that's a worry for another day. We have to prepare for the cook out!"

Mercy narrowed her eyes. "Cook out?"

"Jack didn't tell you?" He gave her a toothy grin. "It's been a long time since we've had this much company on the watch point, so you won't deny me this one indulgence, Angela."

"I would like to," she said slowly, "but with the backlog of documents I've yet to deal with, and me having supposed to have left for Nepal four days ago, I don't know if I can afford such a luxury."

Winston waved her off. "You'd be surprised how much free time 'unforeseen circumstances' on a status report can grant you. Besides, I've taken the liberty of filling out most of the information on your forms while the machine was working. All that's needed is your signature on a number of them."

Walking towards the table, Angela picked up a bunch of papers bound by a bull-clip. She licked a finger and rifled through them. She paused and blinked. "Winston, for my uniform application… how do you know my three sizes?"

From where he was, Genji could see the ape's leg twitch.

"It's all logged into the system," he answered easily, "it was a while back though, so I could understand if you don't exactly remember."

She pondered that for a moment. "Is that so? Admittedly, I don't have the best memory… it must have slipped my mind."

Winston's leg stopped twitching.

"Still, I don't know…"

"Come now Angela, out of everyone here, you deserve this the most," argued the scientist. "You've been so hard at work with everything and had so little sleep. I've already booked for your transportation to Nepal: two days from now. You might as well take the time you have remaining here to relax and rest."

"Since you put it that way…" She bit her lip thoughtfully for a while before her eyes started to glow too. "It's been forever. I'll finish up the rest of this and then I'll allow myself to look forward to it. Thank you, Winston."

"It's my pleasure." He pushed up his glasses. "We're having it tonight. I'll get the camera and barbecue pit ready, and Genji, you can help me with the benches and food."

Winston spent the rest of the day talking and explaining to Genji the ins and outs of the organization, and any other questions he might have had about his trip to Korea. Before long, the two found themselves outside as the sun lazily submerged itself into the sea across the horizon with them carrying crates and equipment out onto the shore. The sky, painted a warm amber, washed the watch point with an aura of comfortable inertia.

Genji carefully set down the three long wooden benches he had hung over one shoulder and without thinking, dropped the cooler he held in his other hand. It dug into the ground, wedging itself almost halfway through.

He pulled it out and stared at the indentation it left on the dirt. "What is _in_ this?"

Winston moved over and popped it open. "The fruit of genius, a lovechild culminated from millennia of human research, and progress!" He leaned out of the way and gestured to it with a grandeur that befitted the greatest creation of all time, as though granting him entry through the Pearly Gates themselves.

Tenderly picking up a piece among several others packed in ice, the cyborg turned it about in his hands and read the label. "Peanut butter… _ice-cream sandwiches._ "

He would have raised an eyebrow at him. Unfortunately, there was the issue of his wearing a faceplate. And also a lack of eyebrows.

"Are you not impressed?" asked Winston, triumphant.

"No."

"Hey, you lot!"

The newcomers came in the form of the pilot and the American. "We just heard about the barbecue! I haven't had one in _ages_." Lena looked over their shoulders at the disorganized clutter of boxes and disposable utensils. "Need help setting it up?"

"It'd be much appreciated," smiled Winston. "Any idea where Jack and Angela are?"

"Morrison's going over some reports," McCree stated, "he'll be down quick. Not sure about the doctor, though."

"I'm sure she will arrive soon. We're supposed to meet when the sun's set, after all," said Winston. "McCree, help set up the benches along the tables. You fold up the tables by… let's see. Oh! Don't worry about it, I'm sure I can get it repaired. Yes, like that! We'll have two of them joined, that'll be enough. Lena, you can help unpack the food. They're the boxes with the yellow straps. Here's the box cutter."

Soon enough, the four set into a rhythm about their tasks, and the silence, accompanied by the sound of waves, was broken occasionally among them in the form of idle questions and small talk.

"So monkey—"

"—scientist," corrected the ape.

"—did you find out anything about the what'cha-ma-call-it?" finished McCree.

"The B-28?" replied Winston, "so far, not yet. In the meantime though, I'll see what I can do about potential sources for intelligence leaks."

"Hard to believe, in'nit? Traitors in _Overwatch._ "

Winston sighed as he poured charcoal into the barbecue. "It's still possible that it might not necessarily be. For now, only time will tell." He swung around with a pair of tongs in hand and tapped at the barbecue pit. "I do hope not though, it'd be ugly if _Overwatch_ operatives were _pitted_ against each other."

In unison, all three raised their heads and looked at him for moment, holding their silence. Just as silently, they slowly returned to what they were doing, the mood slightly different from before.

The cyborg however, did not stop looking at him. "Oh!" he finally said, rapping his fist into an open palm. "I get it!"

Genji laughed.

The sun disappeared over the horizon as three pairs of eyes watched the cyborg express his amusement. Two pairs incredulous, one pair grateful.


	13. Chapter 13

"McCree?"

"Yep?"

"What are you doing?"

He stood up from the grass. "Just inspecting this here bush," he said as he unfurled his fingers, where upon rested several red things the shape of tear drops.

"Are those chilies?" questioned Tracer.

The soldier raised an eyebrow when he nodded. "And what are you planning to do with those?"

"Why, crush them up between my palms and have a grand old game of 'who's there'."

Jack stared at him flatly.

"See, it's the game where I come up behind you, put my hands over your eyes and ask—"

"I know what it is, McCree," he interrupted. "And if you so come close to me with those things I'll send you back to mainland. Like a javelin. With my fist."

"Easy!" The former gang member raised a hand in mock surrender, still holding onto the chilies. "Just pullin' your leg was all. How about this, a little competition?"

"Do any of you know how to start a fire?" asked the cyborg as he walked over, the ape visibly struggling to spark one in the background. "What is that you're holding in your hand?"

"This, my friend, are chilies. Or more specifically, cayenne peppers. Though indigenous to central America and the south, they can be found peppered across the world—"

"I didn't know you were so interested in peppers," the soldier cut in with a wry smile.

"I don't doubt there ain't many things you don't know about me."

"That… doesn't work," said Lena thoughtfully, "there was a triple negative there, so what you really said was—"

"No, robot man," said McCree, abruptly turning away from the pilot, "I don't know how to start a fire. Contrary to popular belief, the south isn't so technologically inept that—what're you laughing about?"

Genji's voice shook as he spoke through his giggles. "Did you mean to do that?"

"Do what?"

"When you said… _peppered_ — He bent over in a fit of silent laughter — across the world… because you were talking about _peppers_ —"

He stared at him, unimpressed. "Are you serious?"

Genji took a few deep breaths to calm himself, the rest of the party patiently waiting. "And south of where?"

McCree puffed out his chest and held his belt buckle. "The great USA, of course!"

"The great… _u-sah?_ " asked Genji, confused.

"Are you serious?"

"Am I really the last to arrive? Did I keep you waiting?"

The doctor crossed the beach to meet them, emitting a warm glow as the stars and moon shined against the gold of her head, which cascaded smooth down her shoulders with a lock partially obscuring her right eye. Plumes of sand rose from beneath her bare feet as she skipped over, her oversized pale pink shirt, almost baring her left shoulder, softly rippling with the wind.

"You are," replied the soldier gruffly. "You can help Winston start the fire."

She acknowledged the enthusiastic waving of Lena and the nod of McCree with a smile. It soon faded from her lips. "Is something the matter, Genji?"

"You look particularly beautiful tonight, Doctor Ziegler," he put bluntly. He came upon the revelation that this must had been the first time in a while the doctor had any time to dedicate to herself, all the while having spent it on the care of himself when he arrived on the watch point and the others, when they were wounded in the fight.

The doctor blushed furiously and looked off to the side, hiding her face behind a curtain of gold. She was not expecting that. "Are you saying I don't look so on any other night?"

The cyborg laughed. "That's why I said _particularly._ "

"Oh… you," she said, not knowing quite what else to. She shuffled on the spot, fidgeting with her denim shorts for a second before moving over to the ape, whose frustration was beginning to take on a color on his face. "I'll… I'll go help Winston."

"Nice," remarked McCree.

Genji looked at McCree, who winked in response. Jack just shrugged.

"The four of you over there," called Winston, freeing himself from his predicament with the barbecue. "Help me prepare the food. Genji, the butter's over there. Don't forget the brush!"

All six set to work, the chill of the evening air caressing them. They laughed when Winston stumbled and fell when he tried to prevent the falling of the plastic knives blown by the wind, and paid for it sorely when the operatives four picked them up one at a time, tallying them accordingly to the ape's will. The entire time, the commander was watching the southerner closely, taking his earlier sarcasm very seriously.

"You said something about a competition just now, didn't you, love?" commented Tracer.

"Yeah," acknowledged McCree, "and a little wager of sorts. A game of chance. It goes like this. We sit in a circle around a flat surface, and I put _Peacekeeper_ here – he patted the revolver holstered on his hip – between us. Don't look so worried, empty of course! So I spin it and whoever the gun points to has to eat a chili. We'll put the water on a separate table away. The first one out of the circle loses. I think this game has a name which at present escapes me. Something about the soviets… and a game, something about a wheel?"

" _Russian roulette?_ " volunteered Jack.

He snapped his fingers. "That's the one."

"So what happens to the loser?" asked Winston.

McCree shrugged. "What's the fun in deciding now? Heck, we could even have one winner and five losers, instead of five winners and one loser. Who's to say?"

Jack smirked. "The one who proposed the game?"

The bounty hunter waved him off. "Can't you see I'm trying to worm my way out of any more effort? Geez, man."

Genji and Lena looked at each other and shared a chuckle.

"Finally!" The back of Angela darkened as she stood between the fire ignited in the pit and the group. The light flared from the outlines of her silhouette. "The charcoal was wet, Winston. It took forever to get going."

"I'll keep them indoors next time. My apologies."

"Apology accepted. Till next time then," she said cheerfully, casually stepping aside and exposing the fire to the party.

In an instant, the man encased in the suit of metal and artificial fiber became assaulted by a barrage of thoughts. The sensation of pins being pushed forcefully into his skull became more intensely apparent as his mind fell under the inundation of abstract information, like water crashing through floodgates. And the concrete was cracking.

A casket under an ineffably familiar pink-leafed tree. A sword, long as a cane and straight as an arrow, crimson at the blade and gilded at the hilt. He clutched at his head. He felt as though it was about to explode. A letter. Extremely brief. Too brief. A wooden shack, built into a hollow of a tree. Darkness.

Then fire.

The pain became more intense. Too intense. Despite this, with every iota of strength he would muster, he pushed himself forward, back into reality. He saw Winston looking at him, concerned, in a tunnel vision. Lena was there too. She looked equally worried. Their lips were moving.

Genji felt as though he was under a lake, peering through the darkness unable to make out their voices. McCree was on his feet, his hands in front of him and his eyes helpless. Morrison remained seated, watching him with a slight frown. He tasted blood. And in the foreground of his vision was the doctor in front of him on the verge of tears, mouth moving rapidly with arms on either side of him.

He thought she must be the one holding him up. He couldn't be sure, though. He couldn't feel it.

For once, he was glad he had a metal, mechanical, unfeeling arm. An arm which if otherwise flesh and blood, would be shaking and writhing, betraying him. An arm which he brought up with calculated ease, resting it on the doctor's shoulder. He tenderly patted her once, twice, with as much focus as he had, for he knew if he did not he would crush her like a leaf in autumn.

He did not allow himself to speak. He knew that as soon as he would part his lips, a scream would emerge between them. Instead, he slowly pushed himself up with equally cold, unfeeling mechanical legs, and at the doctor's face, washed with relief, put a singular finger in front of him, indicating his desire for a moment to himself.

The night had begun well and in a good mood. This would be his last one on the watch point and with his savior, who he knew he would not see for many more moons. He refused to ruin it.

He stalked away from them and rounded the coast, where he broke into a sprint when he broke their line of vision. There he ran, as fast as he could, to the other side of the rock with nowhere else to run, no more possible distance he could put between them.

Ripping off his mask, he screamed like a wounded, feral animal into the night sky. The wind tore and tugged, stealing away his voice into the glassy sea. In the moments he needed to pause for breath he pounded his fists into the dark rock he stood upon which gave and broke apart on every impact. Debris and rock dust geysered into the sky as numerous small craters eventually turned into one large one. Exhausted, he slowly sank into it and curled up, the pain receding to a dull ache which throbbed in his head.

After a long while, it eventually faded into a faint presence, a constant hum of white noise at his temples. _It stopped hurting, at least,_ he thought as he got up and took his time returning to the barbecue, trying to invent an excuse for his absence.

The more he thought, the more confused and frustrated he felt. What did these flashing visions mean? They weren't dreams. No, they were far too real. Genji knew it came from the life he was from, but he couldn't make any sense of it. Everything that's been presented to him seemed so unrelated, so abstract… like an impossible puzzle.

An impossible puzzle, but one he felt… no, was _certain_ was extremely important. Somewhere deep inside him, a place which continued to evade him the more he chased, told him it was the reason why in that very moment, he was walking on the beach, that he was alive.

He couldn't explain it. He just knew. Making up his mind, he resolved to ask Winston a question before he left for Korea, insisting for an answer no matter how uncomfortable he might become. He kept his eyes on the dancing black waters which gleamed cream under the moonlight, letting his thoughts drift. _What would I tell them?_

As soon as he rounded the corner, the doctor immediately stood up and approached him. Her eyes displayed unsettled worry. He felt a pang of guilt for this, and the lie he was about to tell her.

"Genji, are you alright? Was it the painkillers again? Tell me where it hurts. How do you feel now? Oh, I'm so sorry. Follow me, we'll return to the infirmary where we'll do a full—"

"Doctor," he said softly, "you're bleeding under your fingernails."

"Oh, this?" she said offhandedly, hiding them behind her. "It's just a nervous habit, I tend to chew a little…"

The cyborg slowly but firmly grasped at her arm, brought it forward and examined her hand. After a moment of silence with Angela's head bowed, he began, "Doctor Angela?"

She raised her head and met his eyes. He knew that she couldn't exactly see them, but he always had a feeling that it didn't matter. For anyone else on the watch point, either. He saw all of them as friends, and had always felt the warmth in their eyes.

"Please, promise me you will not harm yourself like this again."

Her eyes flickered for the briefest moment, showing an intent to argue, before dissolving just as swiftly. "Okay," she practically whispered.

"As for me," he said as he let go of her hand, "I'm fine, doctor. It's just a migraine that comes every now and again."

"A migraine? There must be a reason. We will just go to the operating theater—"

"Really, it is nothing. You have nothing to worry—"

"No needles this time, I promise. I understand your irrational fear of them now and—"

"It is not irrational!"

"Genji," coughed Winston, interjecting, "has a medical history of migraines. It was on his file when he first arrived. If he says it's nothing to worry about, Angela, we shouldn't push it so much."

"Hardly! I just wanted to do a prognosis, I mean, we're all here anyway. And I checked his file myself, I didn't see anything about migraines."

"It was on page seventy-nine. You couldn't have gotten that far while _you_ were operating on him."

"Well…" She bowed her head. "I suppose I did only… skim it a little."

The cyborg shot the ape a grateful glance. He returned it with a smile.

"Now that that's settled," he said, rubbing his hands together, "let's get down to cooking! Look, the fire's almost died out. Genji, pour in more charcoal while I grab the food."

Genji picked up the sack and easily hoisted it over the pit. As Winston laid the food across the grill, he asked quietly, "I had a history of migraines?"

The ape replied with a shrug and a wink. "Maybe. I don't know. Your record ended at page seventy-eight. I know what you're trying to do, and I don't exactly approve, so you'll explain it to me when all is said and done."

Looking over to where the rest were, Genji found that the soldier was still sitting in the same spot, and still watching him with penetrating eyes. McCree had visibly relaxed and was holding light conversation with Angela, but Lena approached with a peculiar expression on her face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

"I am. Thank you for asking, and for your concern."

"I don't want to make it weird, but…" She looked away bashfully. "You helped me more than you know, even if you didn't really mean to. All of us. Especially with the whole _invasion_ thing." She was gushing now. "So I want to let you know if there's anything you might want to talk about, anything at all, you can always talk to me."

When he put down the bag of coal, he realized he really was going to leave tomorrow, and felt a great sadness to having to bid farewell to such warmth. "Thank you," he repeated sincerely. "And the same goes for you too. I will always remember, as I know you will."

"In that case… okay then!" she said as she straightened, her eyes lighting up. "Let me get some more food—"

"I hope y'all are ready!" exclaimed McCree, now over by the benches and tables. He pulled out a bottle of liquor from out of nowhere and slammed it grandly on the table. "Ain't a proper barbecue without any alcohol to wash it all down, and as luck would have it, I just happened to have some!"

The soldier smirked. The doctor responded with a soft 'oh'. The pilot hesitated. "I uh…" she began, "I don't think I'm legal yet."

"Not an issue! I was drinking since I was fourteen!"

The soldier snorted. Lena glanced at Angela meaningfully.

"When you were part of _Project_ _Slipstream_ ," the doctor said slowly, "it was based in the US, so you would be right to say you were not legal." She paused. "But technically, the rock of Gibraltar is under European jurisdiction… so—"

"You hear that, miss I'm-not-sure-if-I'm-legal-or-not-as-if-it-matters?" interrupted McCree, leaning forward, eyes glinting. "You're legal _somewhere_ in the world. Drink up!"


	14. Chapter 14

As the evening went on, the company found themselves in high spirits which only stood to improve as the spirits within the bottle crept lower and lower to the bottom. Everyone except for the cyborg discreetly made a bet with one another under the mutual agreement that the recipient of each question he asked would imbibe a shot.

It start easily and quietly enough. They all sat in a circle sharing quiet conversation, an innocent exchange between friends which would not give rise to reason for suspicion, except the sporadic darting of eyes to the cyborg with an underlying glee.

And thus, gave initiative for the first question. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's going on?"

The party froze. The question was addressed to all. Silence fell as each member glanced at Genji. Nervous, apprehensive, and some downright amused. Each held their gaze to the man sitting sea-side in the circle.

Genji turned to Lena. "What is it?"

Heaving a heavy sigh, the girl legal on the rock accepted the glass from McCree, stared at it for a moment with an inscrutable expression, before rocking her head back and finishing it in one gulp. Almost immediately, she coughed and sputtered, holding her throat with tears in her eyes, but returning no liquid.

"Hah!" yelled McCree among the varying sounds of awe which came from each person, "first one of her life and it's a fast one! Well done!" He clapped her on the back. She almost fell over as a result.

"Didn't know it'd burn this much," said the pilot as she wiped tears from her eyes, her voice hoarse and weak. Reorienting herself onto the bench, she sat back on and steadied her eyes on Genji—before it glazed over abruptly, her body giving sway. "Wha…"

"You might want to be careful there," laughed the American. "It's not exactly weak stuff, and it is your first one after all."

"Are you alright?" asked Genji, concerned.

Lena groaned loudly and at length.

"New rule," chirped the doctor. "No one should have to take two at once."

As they uttered their acceptance to this, Genji looked to Angela and asked, "two at once? Rules for what?"

The doctor giggled as she held out her glass for McCree to fill, cradling it in both palms for a moment before following suit. The alcohol disappeared down her throat. Her cheeks became flushed as she stifled a hiccup behind a hand with dignity, and smiled stupidly. "It's just a little – hic! – game. Don't fret, Genji."

"Well." McCree whistled. "Aren't you good at keeping it down. Now, who's next?"

"Next for the game? And Winston, is it all right if you participate? After all, you're a monk—"

"Scientist," the ape interrupted as he clinked his glass to McCree's across the table. They drank it in unison. "Yes, it's fine." His face started to glow. "A discovery have been made quite some time ago which detailed chimpanzees in the wild drinking alcohol from over-fermented fruit and—"

"Oh, enough of that," McCree cut in. His voice became louder as his visage intensified in hue. "No lectures tonight. Tonight, we eat and drink under the moon and stars!" He finished his sentence with a chicken leg between his teeth, shredding it efficiently. "'Tis a great game!"

"How does one join?"

McCree looked at Genji, shrugged and poured himself another glass. He tipped it clumsily. "Why," he hiccupped, "by bein' great o' course! Somethin' else. And there ain't one other which measures up to I, yours truly!"

"I do not understand." The cyborg turned to the soldier. "You have not said anything throughout all this. What is your say?"

"Look'it 'em!" exclaimed Lena, bursting into laughter. "Look at his face!"

"You said it!" concurred McCree. "Thought it'd be an infallible strategy, didn'cha? Well? Thought not talkin' won't possibly incite—"

The soldier aggressively snatched the bottle from McCree and stared at him coldly. The circle fell silent. He raised it above his head and turned to the ground. Everyone, except McCree, leaned away from the imminent smash—before Jack brought his head up to the bottle and took a long swig.

The stunned silence was held while the liquid travelled down this throat. It eventually broke into cheer as he brought the bottle away, wiped his lips and belched loudly.

"Ah."

"That much? Really!"

"The absolute madman!"

McCree smirked this time. "Always tryin' to one-up everyone else. Some things just never change."

"Didn't break a sweat," said the commander as his neck rapidly changed color.

"Give it here," the bounty hunter called, taking the bottle back. Without missing a beat, he turned the bottom up over his face and took a longer pull. "Whew!" he coughed. Then laughed hysterically.

It wasn't long before the rules of the game were forgotten and the liquor changed hands by the minute. After a few moments of passing and rambunctious yelling, it eventually found the hands of Genji.

"You haven't had any, haven't you?" said the once reserved and apprehensive Lena. She was getting louder by the glass. "What are you waiting for? Go on!"

"No," the doctor interjected. Hazy eyes returned focused and alert. "His body is still healing. More specifically, his liver is in the process of growing back. It would be ill-advisable for him to ingest alcohol now. Absolutely not."

"You know," began Winston, "I've always wondered about that. Can he even eat?"

"Good question," she acknowledged. She turned to Genji. "You were found with severe damage to your abdomen, the right side specifically. Impact injuries. Five ribs were completely destroyed, turned into shrapnel which left a lung and your liver punctured and largely bruised. We had to remove your appendix along with a section of your intestines as well as the lung… but bad as it may sound, it was extremely fortunate. We have no idea what in the world could have inflicted such a wound, but if it was sustained a fraction closer to your chest — The doctor took a shaky breath — it would have taken your heart."

The fire flickered as the ashes beneath it caved in silently, wisps of white smoke snaking into the air.

"But that didn't happen. And you are here now. That's all that matters." She smiled. "We have been providing sustenance to you intravenously so far, but it should have ran out three hours ago. Your digestive tract, by now, would have healed enough and adapted to the augmentations. So feel free to take a bite, Genji, as long as it's something that won't strain your body too much."

The rest watched with rapt attention as the cyborg removed his faceplate and accepted a chicken leg proffered by the southerner. He slowly raised it and gave it a tentative sniff. He thought it didn't smell appetizing at all, a faint scent of chicken and butter masked by heavy tones of soot and smoke. Tearing off a piece with his teeth, he moved it around his mouth and chewed slowly. His eyes widened. "It's delicious."

"You look like you've never eaten chicken before," Jack remarked.

"I would not know."

"You can't come up with this stuff," laughed McCree shaking his head, back to his usual volume, "I just watched a grown man's in a metal suit face light up like a kid on Christmas morn' from eating chicken on the bleedin' _Rock of Gibbly!"_

" _Rock of Gibraltar_ ," helped Winston as he stifled a hiccup.

"Or as the locals would call it, the _Peñón de Gibraltar_ ," Angela chirped in, wobbling unsteadily.

"Same thing!" He helped himself to another healthy gulp of liquor.

In no time at all, the once half-empty bottle stood completely drained on a patch of grass, the remaining amount having been distributed to everyone save the cyborg who sat quiet nibbling onto additional pieces of chicken as he listened to the excessively loud speech of his friends which became increasingly slurred with every word.

"'Ere, watch this." McCree pulled out the beads of chili and crushed it with his fist before he dropped it into his glass, seeds and all. They rose and danced on the surface of the golden liquid as he waved it around for the others to see. "Loser… loser will have to drink this. All of it. Roulette in Russia."

"I've been thinking about that for a while," said Tracer, who gave momentary pause to her lying flat on the bench paddling her arms in the air in a backstroke. "Isn't Russian Roulette a game where you have one bullet in the chamber, spin it round, then empty each cylinder on each person? You were talking about spin the bottle just now, weren't you? Only with a gun."

"Well, that sounds stupid," said McCree, at Jack's nod. "I don't think I'll ever be drunk enough for that."

Everyone laughed.

It was long after the glasses stood empty and the pit had gone cold that the operatives fell into a spell of silence, simply too tired to shout or talk anymore. The moon hung high and bright in the sky, a celestial lantern encompassed by rings of stars which stretched infinite into the night. Lena had already excused herself twice, each time coming back looking greener.

Most of them assumed horizontal positions in a bid to clear their nausea, the ape and cyborg the only ones remaining upright. Genji leaned back and watched the constellations. From where he was, he could hear the soft moaning of the pilot as she twisted and turned on the bench, uneasily, restlessly.

He turned to the ape. "You do not feel ill?"

"Not at all," replied Winston, cheeks still rosy. "I hold my liquor exceptionally well—"

"Don't listen to him," mumbled McCree, lying back on a bench with a forearm over his eyes. "He's just big, would take a whole barrel to get him knocked off his feet." His lips curled at the corners of his mouth in a dry smile. "Bet he's a lightweight among other ones of his kind, though."

"Well, I never!" said Winston indignantly, though not pressing the issue.

It was quiet once again. Crickets chirped softly among the brush which escaped fire-files, circling the camp, and drawing complex shapes and patterns through the air with their luminous bodies. Lena stopped moving and groaning. Either she found a comfortable position on the bench, or she died. Not that anyone in their current state would notice the latter.

Somewhere, a frog croaked. The fire-files rose higher into the sky, spiraling and weaving among the others like themselves which endured light years away as the bounty hunter began to sing in a deep, rich baritone.

 _I know, it is true: the evil I do  
_ _Black acts that would draw your ire  
_ _Now it's different I swear! My heart I lay bare  
_ _Though small, it rides ever free_

 _I regret the things I have done  
_ _Transgressions, I cannot run  
_ _The pain: it runs deep, by a knot, you weep  
_ _And how; my debt evermore_

 _Yes, my heart I lay bare  
_ _It is different I swear  
_ _There is good, a pure white  
_ _Though small, it rides ever free_

The sound of a crashing wave punctuated the end of the song. It foamed onto the shore, pulling back grains of sand as it receded.

"I've never heard that one before," whispered Lena with groggy, half-lidded eyes. "What's it called?"

"I'll let you know," McCree replied, pulling his hat over his face. "As soon as I come up with a name. Shimada, would you pass some water over? I'm parched."

Still keeping his mind and eyes on the stars, he absently reached over and handed the American a glass. He propped himself up with an elbow, muttering his thanks. Swinging his head back, he greedily imbibed the liquid in a single gulp.

The effect was instantaneous. Eyes relaxed and closed snapped open in shock. Where before it was just his cheeks, his entire visage and ears burned a bright red. With tears in his eyes, he doubled over and started retching. Curses died in his throat as he motioned desperately for the bottle of water beside the pit.

The cyborg, just now seeing the little yellow specks at the bottom of the empty glass, pivoted around as fast as he could, grabbed the bottle, and tossed it over.

McCree, now on the ground with his face soaked in water as a result of the cap being blown off from the sheer impact of the throw, held it above his face, allowing water to pour and splash onto and into his mouth all the while gasping for air with the wind knocked out of him. Unhindered, the water entered his nostrils, causing him to pause his efforts and sputter as he twisted around.

Genji found himself in front of him, not quite knowing what to do. "I deeply, deeply apologize. Are you all right? How can I help—"

"Stop." His voice was extremely thick, and hoarse. He was loudly forcing an exit on excess water from his nose. "You can help… by stopping. To help."

Genji backed away slowly.

"Amazing," remarked Winston. "They're all still asleep!"

He was right. Even Lena who moments ago was conscious was completely out cold.

The ape looked over to McCree, still coughing and retching. "Well, I suppose that's one way to sober up."

McCree responded by glowering.

"Genji, assist me in carrying them back into the facility. I've got Lena, you handle Jack and Angela." He easily grabbed Lena with a hand and slung her over his shoulder like a ragdoll. She was snoring now. "I trust you know where the doctor's room is. Jack's a level above the control center, first door by the stairs. Stay put, McCree. I'll return with milk."

"Don't you worry. I'm not going anywhere."

As Winston moved off into the building, Genji approached the deeply sleeping commander, and lightly rested a hand on his shoulder.

Before he could react, the cyborg found himself knocked to the side of the head as the prone figure before him disappeared. The next thing he knew, a burly arm locked itself by his throat as a palm came to a rest at the base of his skull.

"Whozzat?" mumbled the soldier from behind him, still half-asleep. That did nothing to hinder the vice-like grip around the cyborg's throat.

"I d-deeply apologize for disturbing your rest."

"Oh. Just… Shimada." He yawned. Relaxing his grip, he gazed to the facility. "Going to bed," the soldier said as he turned round and plodded towards it.

Having recovered from his shock, Genji turned to the doctor, lowering himself with his arms outstretched. And paused. He stood back up and with caution, tentatively poked her arm before stepping away quickly. Seeing no reaction from his prompt, Genji, for the second time, lifted her with his arms and made for her room, listening to the sound of her rhythmic breathing.

"Genji," she said softly as he entered the building, her voice weak from alcohol. "Is that you?"

"Yes. Don't open your eyes, doctor. You can go back to sleep."

"Angela," she mumbled. "Name's… Angela."

Genji remembered something. "Doctor Angela?"

" _Angela_."

"Angela?"

"Yes, Genji?"

"What does _Vati_ mean?"

"What an odd question," she giggled weakly. "It's German."

"What does it mean?"

"What an odd question," Angela repeated. "Why do you ask?"

"Please."

" _Father_ ," she answered, rapidly losing consciousness. "It means _Father_ , Genji."

* * *

Author Notes:

 _Whew! This one was a doozy to write. Been interning for a week now, and though I started off nervous, I find myself falling into a pattern now when I enter the office. Having completed my tasks and my supervisor absent from work today, I find myself at a severe lack of things to do as I stared at the clock, tauntingly moving at a snail's pace._

 _And so, courtesy of my work computer and corporate hours, came half of this chapter! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you again in the next one._


	15. Chapter 15

"Winston?"

"Genji! What are you doing here? The carrier leaves in ten minutes."

"There is something I must ask you before I go."

"Ask away. Though you might want to be quick about it. I swear, those carrier pilots don't give two—"

"How did I end up here, on the watch point?"

"Why, you know the answer to that. The Japanese infantry team—"

"I mean," he interrupted, "who did this to me?"

Behind his desk, the ape paused for a moment before he cleared his throat, coughed, and looked off to the side. "The man who brought you within an inch of your life?"

The cyborg did not respond.

Winston started fidgeting and squirming. "Well, of course you would have the right to know. I mean, it's _you_. But with the bind we're in with the Shimada clan, and how you came here… it's unbelievable, honestly. I'm still not quite sure what to think in regards to you and _Project Regicide_ —"

" _Project Regicide_ ," Genji repeated. Winston looked alarmed. "What is that?"

"Forget I said anything!" said Winston, frantically waving his hands. " _Project Regicide?_ What project? No secrets or conspiring here, nope! Absolutely nothing to worry, talk, discuss, chat about, or ever bring up again."

The ape started sweating under his unrelenting gaze.

"Will I… ever learn?" began Genji, finally breaking the tense silence.

Winston sighed. "You will." He heavily sat onto the floor, shaking the jars of peanut butter on his desk. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more. I meant it when I said you out of anyone else deserves to know everything, but I'm under direct orders barring me from discussing that with you. And I can't help but feel like that's the right decision, at this juncture." He leaned forward. "What happened on the beach… it wasn't just a migraine, wasn't it?"

"No," answered Genji after a moment. "Visions… vivid images. But they're not from a dream. Something… a remnant. A memory I cannot recall."

"What did you see?"

"I saw… blood. Fire, and I…"

"Genji!"

"Just a chill." The cyborg managed to stay on his feet. "I am confused, Winston. I don't know what all of this is supposed to mean. The pain and frustration, it's gnawing at me. An incessant noise that resonates in my head."

"All in due time," sighed the ape, "this I promise you. And I will tell you personally if need be."

"I understand. And I do not believe it would be that bad. Not compared to the bizarre things I have already seen."

"Here? Like what?" asked Winston curiously.

"I have seen Lena disappear in front of me in a flash of blue light and reappear somewhere else."

"What?"

"It is as I said. Of course, it must have been an error in my calibration."

Winston was bewildered. "But we just calibrated—"

"I thought I might find you here!" Mercy walked into the room, eyes still hazy from last night. "Why aren't you on the carrier? It's leaving soon."

"I just wanted to ask—"

"Did you not hear what I said?" She grabbed Genji's wrist and led him out. "Carrier now, questions later, lest you miss it!"

"Goodbye, Genji," bid Winston, smiling warmly. Genji thought he saw the slightest hint of melancholy in his eyes. "Till next time."

McCree was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, clutching at his stomach every now and again. The soldier was watching fidget. "What's your problem?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Guilt resurfaced as they approached, Genji recalling the events of last night. "Are you feeling better? I again apologize—"

"What are you talking about," McCree cut in loudly, "ain't nothing to apologize for!" He looked at Genji pointedly. "Ain't nothing at all."

"But the peppers—"

"Peppers?" said the doctor.

"Yeah, peppers?" repeated McCree, with an exaggerated laugh. "What peppers?"

"The ones that I—"

The southerner silenced him with a look. The soldier, confused, shrugged and walked to the humming aircraft, where the pilot still tinged green, sat belted to the side of the cargo hold.

"What are you doing here?" questioned Genji.

"Same reason she is," he replied, nodding to Angela. "To wave a handkerchief as you disappear over the horizon, with maybe one or two tears in our eyes."

She snorted. Genji smiled. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he shouted, the engines growing louder as the humming began to crescendo. "You might want to get on quick though. I had a look at the pilot when he was doing maintenance, he did not look like one happy camper!"

"Understood." Genji briskly paced towards the white aircraft.

"One more thing, metal man!"

He turned around.

McCree hesitated. "I don't know what it's like, waking up and being told by everyone the place I came from was full of murderers, thieves, and all round bad men. Because the thing is, I know I came from a bad crop."

Genji kept silent. The turbines spun faster and louder.

"I'm not proud of anything I've done, so right now, I'm trying to make things right by me. To redeem myself. I felt so strong, invincible, untouchable before. Now, I realize how blind and stupid I truly was. I don't know what you may be looking for at the end of your road, Shimada, but damn it, I like you. Whether it be from your ignorance or infinite wisdom, your utter drive for something you barely know, which includes yourself, made its impression on me. I don't know if I'd ever see you again, but you better believe I'll never forget. Come on then, put 'er there!"

Genji moved forward and locked his arm with McCree's, at the forearms.

"Remember… remember why you decided to go to Korea, and don't you dare stray from your path!" His eyes were as cold and hard as steel. "Or you'd best believe I'd come to find you, and beat some sense into you. Don't make me waste my respect on you, you hunk of junk!"

The ex-gangster released his arm and stepped back. Genji's world became a head full of golden hair as the doctor tackled him in a hug. "I'll miss you. Call me when you reach Korea, and I'll try to reach you whenever I can." She tightened her embrace. "Anything that happens, I want to hear about it. Anything. You haven't been here long, but it feels like I've known you for years."

"Likewise," he said, returning the hug. "I will miss you as well."

"Shh. We'll definitely see each other again." She untangled herself and pushed him away to the carrier, rubbing at her eyes. "Go! Before I change my mind and drag you back here myself."

"Thank you, Doctor!" he yelled over his shoulder as he boarded the carrier, now starting to vibrate and move. He reciprocated the commander's nod who stood with arms crossed on the ground with one of his own. As the bay doors began to slowly slide close, Genji remembered something. "And McCree!"

The ex-gangster raised his head.

"Why _Peacekeeper?"_

He smiled. "Because no one else will!"

" _I_ will, on my name as a _Shinmatta—"_

" _Shimada!_ " Angela and McCree cried in unison.

"Shimada!"

The bay doors closed, nullifying the noise from the raging turbines as the carrier began to jerk and move. Metal ridges with holes punched into them were bolted to the inside of the hull in rows, giving the impression of the jaws of a great carnivorous beast. Pulling the seat down beside Lena, he sat down and fastened his seatbelt.

"Today… is not my day," she said shakily, resting her head on the wall. Beads of sweat crept down her neck.

"You look very ill," agreed Genji. "Perhaps you should have stayed behind and left another day?"

"No amount of sickness will keep me away from my family," she declared, managing a weak smile. "Besides, 's just a hangover."

Genji placed a hand on her forehead. "You have a fever," he breathed.

"How can you tell? Isn't your arm…"

"I do not know how to describe it. It… _feels_ warm." He paused for a moment. His head twitched. "And there's a little box at the corner of my vision. It says 'A hundred and one—F'?"

"Thirty-eight degrees celsius," she groaned, "or somewhere close. Looks like I do have a fever."

"We can still land—"

"No," she interrupted, "I can handle it. It's nothing compared to the ache of missing my family." She smiled brightly at him, or at least as much as she could. "Besides, I have you to take care of me."

"I'm no Doctor Ziegler…"

"I'll be fine, love. Thank you."

The ride went by without much incidence, save for bouts of turbulence which caused an interesting range of colors taking on Lena's face. The two sat side by side in silence after the girl told the cyborg to ease off, for the final time being considerably more firm than the previous attempts following his overenthusiasm to assure her comfort on board. After a moment she finally succumbed to restless sleep, head lolling off to the side.

Left with nothing to do, Genji sat where he was, looking around the cargo hold of the plane, reading tags and labels on the side of brown cartons big and small, shifting about against neon orange tapes tethering them onto the pallets on which they stood each time the plane swayed. He did this while patting and rubbing his knees, idly humming a meaningless tune to himself. Or so he thought.

"That's McCree's song, isn't it?" whispered Lena, eyes still closed.

"Is it? I was not really thinking."

"It is," she confirmed. "I remember how it sounded like—so quiet, and full of sadness."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry about it, love. I've always been a light sleeper."

Genji vaguely recalled her snoring figure swinging from Winston's shoulder as he walked. He said nothing.

"Go on, then," she prompted. "Keep going."

Genji continued humming. When he reached the end of the song, he smoothly transitioned to another tune, another rhythm, one he was sure he had never heard before.

He could see it. As clear as day and as ephemeral as dawn. The smell of fresh, glittering grass, an emerald sea that rippled with the wind. Gargantuan bodies of white cumulus, only to be dwarfed by snow-capped mountains lining the land traveled the sky. Caws, croons and coos. Genji could hear it all as he saw birds flutter into a basin circumscribed by circles of yew, pine and evergreens which sought to touch the skyward blue.

Howls and the gentlest purring filled the air as little woodland critters peeked out of the branches to peer at him. Wolves, foxes, dogs and bears left the cool darkness of the woods and entered the glade, where the sun shined brilliantly off their coats. Gray, brown, black and white. He could watch them forever.

"That was beautiful," Lena said very quietly, disturbing the sacred silence that fell after his song. "Where have you heard that before?"

"A dream. One that was as short as it was beautiful. I could see it too: the forests and the life that resides within."

A silence fell.

"You'll see it again, one day."

"Hmm?"

"The place in your dream. I know you will."

"Perhaps," he said.

The plane now stood still, the roaring of the engines softening to a dull purr. Hydraulics hissed and whirred as the bay doors extended, revealing a thick, long metal platform where white lines, dotted and solid, ran across the ground in seemingly random sequences. Beyond that, sea as far as the eye could see. The skies were dark and the waters even more so. They churned and crashed into one another, but despite this, the platform did not sway.

Genji could smell the salt.

A man came around the doors. "Genji…" He squinted at his clipboard. "Shidama?"

" _Shimada."_

"Shimada," he rectified. "You're getting off here."

The cyborg unfastened his seatbelt uncertainly, looking left and right. "Is this… the place called Korea?"

The man snorted. "Sure, and I'm the local baron, the lord of the metal land."

Genji bowed. "It is an honor."

Lena snickered at the stranger's reaction.

"Are you—insulting me?" he asked suspiciously.

"I would never dream of it, your lordship."

"Is he being serious?"

Lena shrugged.

Nobody said anything.

"Right." He clicked his pen. "Anyway, we were supposed to have reached Korea yesterday, but the weather didn't permit it. We expect to arrive tomorrow morning. But I see that they saw it fit to drop you off right here." He looked up. "What are you waiting for, then? A heralding and fanfare? Head down to the gym: two floors below. Chop-chop!"

Lena grasped his arm as he made to leave. She hid her eyes behind her hair and whispered something.

"What?"

She whispered again.

"I cannot hear you." He leaned in. "What was that?"

Without raising her head, she gestured for him to come closer and spoke inaudibly again. Genji's face was almost an inch to hers now.

Quick as lightning, she shot both arms out and embraced him, pulling him closer. Positioning her mouth to his ear, she shouted as loudly as she could, "See you later, Genji!" before shoving him away.

Losing his balance, he stumbled away out of the plane, where the lip had already began to close. She waved energetically to him, all fatigue forgotten. "Don't forget meeee!"

The stranger shook his head and walked away as the aircraft once again started to hover and take off. Genji planted himself heavily onto the ground, still stunned as the plane streaked across the sky.

The man opened the door of the iron guardhouse some distance away and called, "oh, and training started five minutes ago!"

The gymnasium was a wide area, an expanse which stretched twice as long as its breadth. A small stage in the form of an elevated floor stood at the end of it, unremarkable save for a black podium which sat in the middle of it.

Portraits of people Genji didn't recognize and banners on which loud, patriotic words were written like 'Fight for your Country today' and 'We must ourselves defend the things we hold dear' to other, more general ones like 'Never give up' and 'Bite the bullet, and spit it right back out' lined the otherwise windowless, white walls.

The floor was polished wood, panels of which ran long and narrow where upon stood men with varying expressions about them. They were all dressed in blue fatigues with matching caps. Some stood in circles talking to one another, while others kept to themselves and lurked by the walls of the room. The largest group stood right by the double doors. None paid Genji any mind as he passed through them.

"…telling you, I saw him. Jumped right off the jet going full speed!"

"You're exaggerating. And what makes you think that he, of all people, would oversee our training? We're just privates, never seen a day of real battle."

"Bill isn't lying. I saw him too. Though the part about him jumping off _is_ embellished—"

"Why does it matter? Wouldn't that just make training tougher? I already heard stories about the passing rates, I don't need you two making me feel more uncomfortable than I already am."

"You've come to the wrong place then if you're afraid of a little pain."

"Hardly! I'm as prepared as the next guy, but the numbers don't lie—"

"What is it, then? The percentage of people passing? Spit it out."

"Thirty percent," he replied grimly, "just for the _Swallow_ trials."

The circle fell silent.

"We've come to do the best we can," the man called Bill said. "If we don't make it, there's always the infantry teams. No shame in that."

The rest muttered their agreement.

"Bill's right," acknowledged the recruit who spoke of the trials. "We're in this together—"

"Form up!"

All heads turned. The source of the commanding voice strode into the middle of the room as the recruits scurried into lines on either side. Genji followed suit, falling in beside Bill at the end of the column, and drawing curious glances from the others who stood opposite him.

The man reached the end of the columns and turned, standing at attention. What followed was pin-dropping silence. Genji noticed that instead of fatigues, he was wearing a deep blue blazer that was almost black under a stiffly starched white shirt. And instead of a cap, he wore a beret where a small, silver rectangle was pinned. "My name," he began, "is Herbert Sobel. That's Lieutenant Sobel to all of you. And I have to say – he smiled curtly – you grunts got lucky. Instead of me handling your training, which was as planned, a special guest have arrived and taken charge of the operation. I will be supervising you all and assisting him. Present—arms!"

Everyone snapped their hands to their brows, standing still in salute. Genji awkwardly mimicked the motion.

The doors burst forth, and in paced a blonde man wearing blue armor with a similarly blue energy rifle by his hip. "At ease!"

The recruits dropped their salute. Despite themselves, the men started murmuring immediately. Gasps could be heard here and there.

"Bill wasn't lying!"

"It's true, then."

"Can you believe it?"

"The soldier. _The_ soldier!"

" _Soldier 76!"_

Silence quickly returned as Jack began pacing the right column.

"All of you came here for a reason," he started, looking into the eye of every person he passed. "A sense of patriotism, a desire to do something greater, to see how far you can go, or to protect a loved one. All of us has a different one for being here."

He reached the end of the right column, and began pacing back on the left. "But where your differences end, your life as soldiers begin. Right now, you stand here together. Soon, you will eat together, train together, and eventually fight together. Stay and fight, and you will learn trust, code, and loyalty as something more than just words. I have the great privilege of personally training all of you for the next few months, until you reach the trial of _Storms_. Till then, let me see the drive and determination unfaltering in your eyes. Make no mistake, I will not go easy on you. The time for fun and games have long since passed, boys. After all—"

He came to a stop in front of Genji, and looked him right in the eye. "—we're all soldiers now."

* * *

Author Notes:

 _I heard that there's some problems with the review system now. Don't worry about it though, even if it doesn't show up on the website, I'm still reading it when it shows up on my e-mail, so post away!_

 _I refuse to delay this chapter till the issue's fixed, so here it is. It's crazy to think about how far we've come, from the 3 or 4 followers from the first chapter. Thank you so much for all your attention and stay tuned for the next chapter. Right now though, I'm going to bed. I'm absolutely dead on my feet._

 _Oh, and I changed the title a little so the premise of the story is a little less ambiguous._

 _Edit: Woah, just when I was gonna post it the issue got fixed. I didn't plan for this, I swear!  
Also, for any questions I haven't answered, it's only because I don't really know the answer myself. The story goes off on its own, I'm just along for the ride, almost as much as you are! The only thing left to do is to keep reading to find out ;)_


	16. Chapter 16

Adrenaline coursed in Genji's veins.

He could feel it in his chest, weighing his diaphragm with anticipative exhilaration. He lowered himself, his face close to his knee with his other leg behind him, slightly bent, ready to spring at a moment's notice.

He stood in a line among others who also lowered, eyes straight ahead and focused. Some took different positions, but the objective was the same for all of them. Reach the stage, as fast as they could.

As if their lives depended on it.

The pistol popped.

Energy surged through his body and he powerfully kicked off. To his shock, he found the floor approaching rapidly as the runners who flanked him left him in the dust, their rapid figures shrinking into the distance. The sound of their footsteps rang across the polished floor, squeaking and scraping.

Perplexed, the cyborg picked himself off the ground deliberately, looking to his legs. They seemed fine. _What happened?_

He glanced to his left, where he could see the trail of smoke rising from the barrel of the pistol from Lieutenant Sobel's hand, with the commander standing beside him, watching Genji in his usual penetrating, analyzing way. They exchanged a few words, Jack never taking his eyes off him. After a moment, he motioned Genji to join them.

"What happened?" Jack asked when he got closer, echoing his thoughts.

"I… don't know," Genji responded, feeling an odd sense of shame and embarrassment. "I started as fast as I could, then found myself falling. I did not move any."

"But you did," he pointed out, more to himself. "You did move."

"Commander?"

He continued to watch the cyborg as the other runners touched the stage and began jogging back. Genji began feeling extremely self-conscious.

"Follow me." Jack turned and walked towards the corner of the gym. Feeling increasingly foolish, Genji followed. He could hear the recruits' confused mutterings behind him. If they didn't know about him before, they definitely did now.

The Lieutenant silenced them with instructions, loudly barked while expressing his opinion about their fitness and comparing it to his grandmother's. Genji thought it all very strange. What must have the Lieutenant's grandmother done in her lifetime to be more physically apt than the recruits? The recruits which, during the briefing, he learned came handpicked from their regiment leaders. Genji couldn't help but wonder why and how he ended up here.

"All right," Jack said, facing him. "Jump."

"What?"

"What, _sir._ "

"Yes, that was what I asked."

The commander stared at him for a long moment. Genji couldn't help but feel he'd done something wrong.

"As of this moment, Shimada," he said sharply, "you're inducted into the _Hounds_ training program. Sure, you might look a little different or may be missing a few limbs, but that does not place you in any different a position or any higher a place than the men in blue fatigues. Do I make myself clear?"

Genji was shocked. Was that how he was coming across? "I never—"

"One thing you should quickly learn about me, grunt," he interrupted, "is that I do not like to repeat myself. So consider it a product of my virtue of extraordinary patience—which is quickly waning thin, that I do so. Do I make myself _clear?"_

"Yes," he replied quickly.

The look in his eyes were still dark. Genji quickly caught on.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, jump."

"As hard as I can?"

"As if your life depended on it."

No more time to feel embarrassed or misplaced, feelings plentiful ever since he stepped off the carrier. The cyborg slowly bent his legs, making ready to spring. Excitement dominated as he pushed off, powerfully extending his legs—before his senses became muddled by the strangest sense of vertigo. He was not in the air, as he had expected to be. Neither could he feel purchase of the wood beneath his feet, where he could a moment ago.

But the strangest thing, an outcome in every world that Genji could not have foreseen, was finding himself inexplicably shorter in height: he found himself eye-level with the soldier's waist.

Jack Morrison was looking at the floor with a calculative gaze, the spot where the cyborg planted his feet. Genji looked down.

He could no longer see them. Where the whiteness of his waist ended, the wood of the floor began. Splinters were all about him, and he was just now noticing the cloud of dust which was slowly descending and settling onto the ground. The shouts from the Lieutenant was especially loud now, trying to gather the attention of the men—all now turned towards him, with commands and threats. Somehow, he managed yet again to find mention of his grandmother.

Genji twisted, trying to loosen the wood wedged into his sides and freeing himself. He was stuck in the _floor._ _What in the world happened?_ he thought.

Jack leaned into his shoulder and spoke into a small black rectangle which rested upon it. A single, coiling wire trailed down from it into his coat. "Did you see that?" he asked into it, looking up at a camera which hung from a corner of the room.

"That's an affirmative," a voice replied through a layer of static. "Shall I supply a report to the trainer?"

"Yes," the soldier said distractedly, observing the hole. "Return here to fetch the subject after."

"Roger." The radio clicked.

Having freed himself from the hole, Genji peered down to access the damage he caused. He'd fallen down right next to a stint which held up the wood floor from a lower layer of concrete, which was the only reason why he came to a stop, instead of falling down another level. Two distinct ovals were imprinted onto it though, cracks lining the edges where his feet impacted on the stone.

Jack nodded to him. "Fall back in, soldier. You'll be relocated to another training program shortly."

"Relocated?" He looked towards the rest of the men. "I'm not going to do it with them?"

"No," the soldier replied, not offering any further explanation as he stalked back towards the group of privates, now by the side of the gym doing pull-ups still under the constant verbal abuse from the lieutenant. Those who were waiting their turn could stand to spare an effort to conceal the fact that they were staring at Genji and the hole he made. It wasn't hard for him to pretend he didn't notice, with his helmet masking his face. But though he could understand the more confused and bewildered expressions from some of them, he was more disconcerted about the outright hostility that came from a few.

The ones who scowled and glared at him were the first to turn when he approached, followed by the others who seemed to tear their eyes away more unwillingly, common etiquette giving way to curiosity. Those who finished their set filtered out to the back of the lines awaiting their next turn, chest heaving from exertion. Soon enough, Genji could practically _feel_ the stares on him. He stood out like onyx on a bed of quartz.

Trying his best not to squirm in his discomfort, he moved beneath the bars when the lieutenant read his name from a clipboard and watched him in silence. That did nothing to alleviate his unease. The silence that hung in the air now felt heavy in contrast to the barrage of insults he was hurling to the other recruits.

He poised himself to jump, putting his hands in front of him to catch the bar.

"Genji Shimada!"

A man stood by the double doors, arms crossed, coolly looking at the procession. He nodded to the lieutenant and jerked his head as a gesture for Genji to follow before promptly stepping back out into the corridor. The cyborg looked to Lieutenant Sobel.

"With him," he said, "and be quick about it. You're holding up the line."

Genji turned and paced uncertainly from the group. Their mutterings were quickly silenced as they were put back to work. He still felt uneasy from the reserved nature the lieutenant exclusively treated him with, or anyone else for that matter. He understood how different he may appear to everyone, especially with tripping over nothing and crashing through the floor, but he still wished he wasn't treated any differently.

Where the walls of the gym were filled with portraits and banners, the walls of the metal corridors were blank, narrow, and unremarkable. Against this, the gym seemed excessively lavish and frivolous in its decoration. They weaved through the metal corridors dimly lit by amber light which peeked out between pipes snaking the ceiling. Some doors stood ajar to reveal rooms which shared the same walls and lack of unnecessary adornments. Some held counters of valves and pipes, others shelves and buzzing computers, and Genji even noticed a room with absolutely nothing in it but a singular white lightbulb which hung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the corners of the room, and a plain rectangular table with a chair on either side directly underneath it.

"Where are we going?" he asked eventually.

His escort continued to stride forward, not deigning to reply.

After numerous more turns and series of stairwells, the man stood beside a door, facing his back against the wall and clasping both hands behind his back. Using his head once again, he gestured for the cyborg to enter.

Genji couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. The least that could be granted to him was an explanation, instead of being corralled around like a sheep in a pen. Regardless, he moved past the soldier—and for the brief moment they made eye contact, he saw the deepest loathing and contempt looming in his eyes despite his cool demeanor—and pushed open the door before stepping in.

His arms and legs stood still and calm, as they always did, as he turned to close the door carefully behind him, ignoring his shaken state. In his maelstrom of emotions, confusion held strong. Not at why the soldier may hate him so, but to what he himself actually felt. _What is this?_ he thought, staring at the chrome handle of the door, _this sinking feeling in my heart? Is it regret? Is it anger?_

After giving himself a moment, he turned and faced the room. It looked nothing like the gym and more of the rooms he saw on his way here. The mattes of galvanized metal piping bolted to the ceiling and certain parts of the wall shone dully against the rusty yellow bulbs which lined the upper section of the each wall. The space was large, compared to the claustrophobic corridors outside. It would take twice his height to touch the ceiling, and to be about a quarter of the floor space of the gym.

A lone wooden cupboard stood in the far corner of the room, being one of the two only furniture within. The other was a relatively small bamboo mat in the middle, which at current was occupied by a man, kneeling on it.

Though he sat with his back facing Genji, he could tell that the man was undoubtedly old. Wisps of white hair fell around his bald crown, his head bowed and his figure slumped, looking awfully frail. He wore an orange fabric which fell from his shoulders and pooled in folds on the floor, almost obscuring his bare feet. It looked like a still image of a waterfall, bathed in the light of a setting sun.

Genji contemplated how different the man looked compared to the other soldiers he seen on the platform, before recalling his own predicament, and silencing the thought.

He stepped forward. "I—"

Faster than Genji would have thought possible, the man stood up in a swift pirouette, and from his momentum, thrust a black object straight to his face. It whistled through the air as Genji instinctively raised an arm and intercepted it, halting the dagger an inch from his face. "What—"

"Don't move," a raspy voice commanded.

For a reason the cyborg did not know, he did as he was told. The old man moved close to him and around him, scrutinizing him with small, twinkling eyes. He was not as frail as he first thought. Pacing around him with purpose, the strange man gave energetic, approving nods and soft throaty acknowledgements.

He removed the knife from Genji's grasp and cleared his throat. "Ah, how do they say it around here? _'At ease,'_ is that right?"

Genji did not relax. He did however let his arm drop to the side, ready for another surprise attack.

The man slowly turned the black dagger around his hands, paying close attention to the handle. He frowned. "I see what the problem is, now."

"Which is?" he inquired calmly, never taking his eyes off his hands. "What is that which you have discovered by hurling a _kunai_ between my eyes?"

His head snapped up. "You remember… what this is called?" He held up the blade.

"I do," he said.

"And here they made it sound as though I would be teaching a baby how to crawl." He stroked at his beard thoughtfully, which grew luxuriantly and fell to his chest. A shame the same couldn't be said about the strands on his head. "Tell me, how did this blade, _kunai_ , come to be? Do you remember its origin?"

Genji searched the recesses of his consciousness, and came up blank. "I do not know. Or perhaps remember."

"Then allow me to remind you. But first let me ask: what do you think about my throwing it?" He was idly twirling it about his fingers with impressive dexterity.

"Throwing it?"

"Indeed."

He thought for a moment. "That it was very dangerous."

He laughed heartily. "Indeed! It was very dangerous."

Genji did not know what he found so funny.

"But that aside, there is still one more thing."

The cyborg waited.

The man's eyes twinkled. "And that is that you're not supposed to throw it."

"No?"

"No," he confirmed. "The _kunai_ , is a simple farming tool." Genji watched him move the _kunai_ in his hand with extraordinary ease as he stalked away, the handle seeming to be magnetized to him as he flourished it nonchalantly. His fingers never found the blade. "It's to be used to break apart wood, and softer and brittle materials. For digging and for prying, but never for throwing." He whipped his arm across his body. With a dull thud, the blade wedged itself into the wood of the cupboard. "But it can."

"What are you trying to say?" he said, after a moment of silence.

"What?" He turned towards the cyborg. "I was saying something?"

Each held their gaze.

"You… weren't?"

"I do not believe so. I just think it's an interesting fact. Wouldn't you say so?"

Genji looked at the man before him, a man with surprising agility and strength. Perhaps he was not as sharp at mind as he thought. "Sure."

"Good!" His eyes lit up. "Have an appreciation for story and history, Genji. A learned mind will serve you well."

"As it have you?" he asked sarcastically.

"Indeed!" he said cheerfully, either missing his sarcasm or ignoring it.

"You know my name," Genji stated, "but I do not know yours."

"That is true."

Genji waited. The old man continued standing, eyes closed, smiling contently.

"So… who are you?" he tried.

"A simple farmer, though admittedly, not by trade. Miyamoto Musashi is the name my mother has given me. You however, may call me _sensei_."

" _Sensei?_ "

"Yes," Miyamoto nodded. "It means _teacher_ in Japanese." He paused, opening an eye. "You know you are from Japan, yes?"

"I do, and I know what it means."

"Seeing that you do, I draw that you are not as concerned about the function as much the context."

Genji blinked. "Yes."

The old man sighed. "I see Jack have not told you about what is to happen here."

"I did not know he would be here, on the platform either."

The old man groaned. "I will never understand the nature of his actions. Or lack thereof. Is it negligence, or simply a fondness for theatrics?"

Genji chose not to reply and instead watched Miyamoto stroke his beard. He looked as though he was talking to himself now.

"A final favor, he told me. Of course, I am obligated on my honor, for I did promise… but what to do… what to do?" He thoughtfully paced to the cupboard, where he pulled out the dagger and stared at it. "'Teach a baby how to crawl, or at least remind it how to', he told me. But this isn't the case. Not at all. How do I teach a baby how to crawl, when it already sprints?"

"Miya— _sensei_?" The word felt strange on Genji's lips, but he felt as though he had said it a thousand times before.

"Genji." He held up the knife. "What do you see?"

"The _kunai_?"

"Yes, but on the handle, after I threw it at you. What do you see?" he repeated.

The cyborg looked. The handle was jagged and warped where he had grabbed it. "It is bent."

"As so. Now, do you see the problem?"

"No."

"And what a problem it is, one such as this." He was back to talking to himself. "Hmm… yes. It might work. All right!"

" _Sensei_?"

"Quiet, young one. Do you hear it?"

He listened to the silence, one which replaced the ever-present distant roaring of engines and air rushing through the pipes overhead. "I do. The ship have stopped moving."

"Indeed. We have arrived at Korea." He paused. "Or we are dead out at sea. Let us hope it is the former. Anyway! Assuming this is not a scenario where we will have to ration that little food we have before we inevitably resort to cannibalism to preserve our existence, you will leave to the markets of Korea for me and obtain these items. Remember them: two-hundred eggs, one kilogram worth of feathers, and fifty one-meter long squares of orange fabric. And a broom and dustpan. Get all of them as cheap as you can find them. I do not have much money." He fished out a few notes of currency from his robes and pressed them onto the cyborg's palm.

"What are you going to do with all that?" he asked, overwhelmed.

"But the question is what _you_ are going to do with all that. One more thing. Now pay attention. This is the most critical detail."

Genji leaned in.

"For every item you acquire, you must talk to the shopkeepers. When you return, you will tell me their names, the towns they were born in, and how they came about their trade. Any questions?"

"Just one," he replied, incredulous. " _Why?_ "

"Why not! You will not neglect this detail, young farmer." He sat back down on his mat of bamboo, waving him away. "Now go! Leave me to my thoughts."

"When would you like me to return?"

"Are you asking for a deadline? There is no deadline. You may take as much time as you so please to fulfil the tasks I have given you, and if Jack should give you any instructions, you shall prioritize that."

He hesitated. "You are my _sensei_. What are you going to teach me, other than to speak to shopkeepers and do some shopping?"

"Why, to crawl, of course!" he laughed. "When the young farmer already sprints."

* * *

Author Notes:

 _ONE-HUNDRED FOLLOWERS_

 _We broke the three digit mark, people! Y'all will have no idea how excited that made me when I found out. I remember being out and about on my internship when I did, and it was hard to suppress a smile. Anyway, the last few weeks have been extremely mentally draining for me, though I'm not going to pretend that's the only reason for this unreasonably long update. Honestly, I've been struggling a lot trying to figure out what to do for the Korea arc, but I think I finally got it figured out. This chapter was hard for me to start, but once it got rolling, it's pretty easy and fun to ride out the momentum._

 _I'll see you guys soon, I hope. Thank you for reading once again. Till next time!_


	17. Chapter 17

"Shimada."

Genji turned from the blast doors to find the commander striding towards him. Alarmed, he quickly snapped to attention in a salute. "Sir?"

The commander grimaced. "At ease. You may drop all the formalities when we're outside training."

Genji relaxed. "Is there something you require?"

"Something _you_ do, as a matter of fact. Here."

"This is… what is this?" The small black object that sat in Genji's hand stood in stark contrast to the white of his armor. It was a cube; larger than an average dice with another critical difference: its six sides were blank.

"That is a holographic communicator," Jack said, "currently broken and in need of repair. Unfortunately, the ship lacks the spare parts to do so, and since I've heard that you're already given the task to acquisition certain materials for Miyamoto, you can get this fixed along the way."

"Can't you send someone more qualified?" The cyborg paused. "I don't really know a lot of things."

The soldier waved him off. "Of course I can. I'm just choosing not to. You do it."

"What is it for? What about the…" Genji shuddered. "The metal thing on my back?"

"The bio-tag? Won't work across large distances, didn't Winston tell you? I'm giving you this because it's one of the conditions Angela gave me for bringing you here."

The cyborg regarded the strange object. "I can speak to her through this?"

"Provided you can get it working." He pull out a slip of paper. "Here's the address. It's in the heart of the city."

"Thank you," said the cyborg accepting the slip. He remembered something. "I'll need… I'll need — he pulled out notes of currency he was given — these things, right?"

The soldier regarded him in disbelief. "You're telling me you remember the name of some obscure Japanese throwing knife, but you don't have any recollection of _money_?"

Genji shrugged. "They're not throwing knives. Just simple farming—"

"Either way," Jack cut in, "when you get to the place, just mention my name and have the guy handle it. He owes me a couple of favors anyway."

"You come here often?" he asked curiously.

"I was stationed here before I was sent on my mission to Singapore. Place feels like home to me. One of Miyamoto's tasks for you is to learn the lives of the people here, correct?"

"It is so."

Genji waited for a piece of advice, maybe a place or a path to follow to get started. None came.

"Be at shooting range one at oh-nine-hundred hours. Till then, you have free time. Sleeping quarters open at seventeen-hundred hours for the recruits. You're in number three." With a curt nod, the commander retreated from where he came, ducking through a door. He hesitated, one hand on the frame. "Good luck. With Korea." He shut the door behind him.

"What was that about?"

Genji turned around. Approaching him was the man he first seen on the ship. "The lord."

He drew his mouth into a line. "Stop that, please. It was a joke, and I've enough problems as it is."

"As you wish."

He sighed, and looked to the door. "Strange that you're taking this gate out. The recruits normally leave by gate four."

"And you?"

"Less people come here, so less traffic, and the faster I can get onto land," he said, shrugging. "It's been a while since I was back here, and I faster I get my money changed, the more time I have for myself."

"Money… changed?" Genji scratched his head. He couldn't feel it, of course, but he found that it helps him think.

"Yeah. All I have is Chinese currency right now. We just came from China."

Remembering something, Genji said, "You said we would arrive the next day, in the morning."

The man grew visibly uncomfortable. "Well, the storm passed and the sea seems to be favorable, it not that much of a surprise…" He paused, squirming. "It's not like I misread the map or anything."

A moment passed between them, the blast doors hissing at the sides as they slowly pulled open from the frame. Genji started laughing. When his laughter earned him a glare, he laughed harder.

"Not a word. I'm serious. Not a word to nobody, alright?" he gushed.

"I promise." Genji realized something. "You don't seem uncomfortable around me, not like all the others here. And you do not know me."

"People are uncomfortable with what they don't understand," he replied, calming down. "Don't be so hard on them. And with the rumors going around of another Omnic Uprising, it gives people a bad impression of your kind. It's unfair, but there you go."

 _What?_

"But I personally don't believe in any of that hogwash. And even if I did, I don't judge a person — he paused — well, in your case _omnic_ , on where they came from or what people say about them."

Genji waved his hands in front of him. "I'm not—"

"Don't pretend to be someone, or some _thing_ else. You don't have to change for anyone." His eyes hardened. "Frankly, I'm not impressed with this batch of recruits. You would think from where they come from and how they were chosen, they would already have known to not make assumptions about others…" He sighed. "But such is the function of the human condition. I never introduced myself to you, haven't I? Sergeant Rivers." He held out a hand.

The cyborg remained silent as he took his hand and shook it, the doors slowly opening fully with a metallic yawn. The corridor beyond was more dimly lit, with a simpler pair of sliding doors at the end.

"Well, let's go." He paced purposefully through the doors and into the corridor, Genji following behind. Reaching the end, he hit a large button to the side of the wall with a fist, and the doors quickly slid open to the salty evening air.

He blinked, shielding his eyes from the momentary brightness. Genji took a moment and waited for his eyes and visor to adjust itself to it, before looking up and having his breath taken away.

It was an amazing sight, even from the docks. Bright, multi-faceted buildings pierced the clouds, with shorter ones encompassing their perimeter. The lights from them shone and winked from windows, glowing like a huge gem, dispersing every shade and hue of light into their surroundings. It colored the evening sky: rays beamed out into the night, and painted each cloud a flavor, giving an impression of giant bunches of floating cotton candy. _How can they be built so_ high _?_ the cyborg thought in awe.

The cyborg felt no sense of inexplicable familiarity, as he did other things. It wasn't very long ago that he lost his memories, but he was sure he had never seen anything like this before. Life spilled from the kaleidoscopic city from the buildings to the traffic he could barely hear from the distance, carrying so much activity in a single scene that the cyborg could only attempt to drink it all in at once.

Through glass panels that walled the skyscrapers, he could perceive the constant movement of its inhabitants with the aid of his visor. The men and women within who were clad in uncomfortable looking tight, black and white clothing paced briskly back and forth, carrying cases, papers, and the occasional phone to their ears. They all had an urgent yet stoic expression about their faces as they did so, except for one in a corner who lay sprawled across a table, head resting in his arms. Genji hoped he was alright. Drool glimmered on his desk, soaking into his tie.

"Well, I'm off this way," said the sergeant as he jumped off the ship onto a metal platform which connected to the dock. It rang from his landing.

"Wait," called Genji, reaching out, "where can I find the markets? I know nothing of this place."

"Same here. All I know is that the moneychanger's this way. Good luck!" he replied over his shoulder, waving as he walked off.

Looking around, Genji realized that the docks carried no splendor the city in the distance embodied, but it did carry a charm of its own, in its own quiet way. The docks themselves were a plain expanse of concrete with several short pillars lining the edges to anchor ships to the shore, but the huts and houses built along its outlines were quaint, picturesque little things made of brick, wood, and concrete for a few. Some were taller than the others, some were wider and larger, in pleasant disarray. Not two were the same.

 _So this is Korea_ , the cyborg thought as he carefully stepped out onto the concrete. _It is beautiful here_. He watched fishermen rein in between larger ships, hauling nets of today's catch over their shoulders and shouting in a strange language, adding to the cacophony of squawking seagulls, bells and whistles.

He approached a nearby fisherman who was busy tossing empty nets out onto the shore. Clad in high brown boots and a bulky black windbreaker, his breath misted in puffs with each exhale. It was cold, Genji could tell, but isn't especially affected by. He seemed quite insulated against it.

"Hello," greeted Genji. The man turned to him. His expression darkened. The cyborg hesitated. "Do you… understand me?"

Abruptly, he turned away, lifted his heap of nets and paced towards a small wooden shack. He promptly shut the door behind him.

For a reason the cyborg couldn't explain, he felt an odd sense of embarrassment and shame. He wasn't sure how to deal with his new surroundings. All he knew was the isolation of the watch point and the friendliness he found there. He felt a pang of sadness. He missed it greatly.

He decided to try again. Even having steeled himself, he still found himself in considerable unease when another fisherman turned from him and walked away without so much a word, not giving Genji a chance to finish this sentence this time. It wasn't animosity or even disgust; just cold, nonchalant indifference. They gave him no indication of whether they understood him or not.

How was he supposed to discover details about the lives of people here, if they did not even want to speak to him? Feeling troubled, the cyborg looked around, wondering about his next course of action. _The only way left to go is forward_ , he thought, the doctor's words echoing in his head.

The doctor. Genji pulled out the slip of paper the commander given to him and inspected it. _New Myeong-dong 71 street, #01-22._ Genji looked up to a nearby signpost. _New Myeong-dong, 66 street._ He smiled. Basic arithmetic wasn't robbed from him, at least.

Stowing away the piece of paper, he took a deep breath, and stalked off down the path leading to the sixty-seventh street. The air hung heavier here, in contrast to the light coolness of the watch point. Serendipitously, he found himself to be walking through a market; it was lined with stores built into the buildings which flanked the street where the higher levels seemed to be residences, where windows across its façade ranged varyingly in its design, color, and states of open or closed. Genji looked up. It seemed to go on for quite a height, twice the tallest building on the Rock of Gibraltor.

Besides the shop houses, standalone stalls elevated by wheels occupied the outer perimeter of the street, goods laid out on cloths and planks while their peddlers loudly advertised them. Genji didn't understand a word. One thing is for certain, however. It was a nagging suspicion at first, but he could deny it no longer. The shopkeepers, in the buildings or otherwise, would quieten when they saw him before hastily tearing their eyes away, and continue with their business as he passed.

Like he was carrying an aura of silence, where he loudly existed in the absence of sound.

The cyborg tried to ignore it, to put on an air of callousness that was shown to him. It didn't help very much.

Despite this, he kept an eye out for any of the items that was asked of him, nervously clutching at the crumpled notes in his hand. Before long, he came upon a stall that sold eggs. _Only_ eggs. From the top to bottom shelves, every available surface was filled with them. Every size and color decorated it, with a man leaning on the counter coolly behind it, a slightly bored face peeking out between the racks of eggs.

He wasn't very different from the others. It was obvious he wasn't very enthusiastic about his job, and he moved his gaze away from the cyborg almost immediately after they made eye contact, but sighed and returned it when Genji came right before him, unable to ignore him any longer.

"And how may I help you?" he asked reluctantly, in clear English.

Genji hid a sigh of relief. "Hello. I would like some eggs—"

"Omnic! An omnic!" cried the voice of a child. Genji looked behind the man, seeing a young boy sitting on a chest, swinging his legs. He was playing with a wooden ball, intricately carved with patterns. His lips were spayed in a playful smile.

"Quiet, boy!" the man hissed, turning. "Keep your voice down, and not another word!"

"A real omnic!" the child yelled shrilly, heedless. "I haven't seen one this close before. What's your name, mister? Do you have a name? Do omnics have names?"

The shopkeeper anxiously glanced around. He rounded on the child. "Silence! This instant! You will not speak of them. We do not speak of them!"

"But father," he said quieter, eyes growing wide, "you told me about them. I want to know more."

"You know not what you speak," he replied urgently. He seemed to have forgotten about Genji. "I told you about them, so you should know precisely why you should at this moment shut your mouth!"

"But I'm curious!" he whined.

"No but's—"

"What about the—"

"Silence! _Now_!"

"—the _Revolution_?"

The shopkeeper sprung up, as though jolted by electricity. Without meeting Genji's eyes, he pulled a lever on his stall. The shutters slammed closed as he cuffed the boy's mouth with a hand, leading him away and into a door behind them. Genji listened to his indistinct mumbling, holding his gaze, before the door slammed shut, hiding them from view.

Genji stood on the spot, processing what just happened. _The… Revolution?_ He shook his head, frustrated. He came to Korea to find answers, not more questions. But it seemed like on every turn, he was running into everything at odds with him without the slightest inkling on why that might be. He looked around. People around were openly staring now, only looking away when he faced them. Genji felt himself growing angrier at this.

There was nothing more he could accomplish here. He continued his journey to the heart of the city, still thinking about the child that showed an interest to who he was … Or what he was. The cyborg looked at his hands as the sound of traffic slowly grew louder, the lights getting brighter. He stared at metal things imitating fingers and palms as they pivoted inwards on metal joints as he clenched his fists, and how they extended outwards as he unfurled his fingers one at a time.

 _What is this sinking feeling in my heart?_ he thought, forming fists again, and watching again. _Regret? Sadness? So much I do not know, should I hope to understand?_ He remembered Winston's promise of full disclosure. A promise miles away.

Genji stopped and looked up. And through conflicted feelings and confusion, he felt a profound sense of awe from seeing the city from the inside. How long had he walked?

The city was _bright_. There was no better way to put it. A myriad of colors took the scene, flashing and blinking before they winked out or changed to another color. Traffic lights, headlights, signboards and naked lightbulbs were among the notable few that contributed to it. Genji felt more comfortable here. The throng he found himself a part of pushed against him as people hurried past, but never giving him a second look. There was just too much going on.

He let himself get pushed along, following the crowd, before making an advance of his own when he realized he was being steered the wrong way. He pushed his way to the sign which pointed him deeper into the city to his destination, when somehow, through the constant noise of people talking over each other, the traffic and honking of more than a few vehicles, he heard the unmistakable sound of soft crying.

Two. Two voices he heard crying, sobbing and sniffling, overlapping one another. He turned to his left. Through the bodies of moving people, he caught a glimpse of a pair of very young girls huddled against a lamppost, eyes wide with confusion and fear as they frantically searched the crowd that pressed against them.

Genji found himself pushing his way towards them, without a second thought. When he got closer, he saw that one girl had chestnut hair which fell below her shoulders with similarly brown eyes, while the other had black hair, like a starless night sky which shade her eyes also shared. The latter saw him approaching first.

Genji paused in his tracks and watched the color drain out of the girl's face at the sight of him, before seeing something behind him and smiling widely, delight taking on her features. She hurried through a forest of legs and embraced a squatting woman who looked very much similar to her, tears in both their eyes. The cyborg looked back. The other didn't seem to realize her friend was gone. She had given up scanning the crowd and resolved to sitting on the ground, hugging her knees with her head tucked between them. Her shoulders twitched, jerking up and down as she sobbed while the fabric of her jeans became dampened with tears.

Eyes wide with fear. Fear greater than being lost and confused. Genji hesitated. Should he help the girl when his mere appearance engendered such terror in the other? Will he help at all? Will it spur her to dash into the crowd in a panic, leaving her in a worse position than before?

Should he leave? Let someone else deal with it?

 _No._

He carefully stepped beside her and knelt down. The soft sound of resigned crying tore at him. In some ways, it was a lot worse than the frantic, panicked sobs that he heard before. As softly and tenderly as he could, he touched her shoulder. To tell her that he was there.

Slowly, so very slowly, she raised her eyes. Half-lidded swollen red eyes gradually widened at the sight of Genji, at the realization of what she saw. They continued to widen with understanding, until there was no more grief in them. There was just no more room for it as they became filled with pure, unadulterated fear.

"I will not hurt you," he said softly, but clearly. Slowly. "I want to help you. Do you understand me?"

The girl froze. She sat perfectly still, like a statue. The moment stretched on for an eternity. Just when Genji began to consider leaving before he did any more harm, she nodded the slightest amount, still keeping her eyes on him.

A small victory. "Have you lost your mother?"

Another tiny nod.

"Do you remember where you came from?"

She glanced quickly to the left, then the right, before resting her eyes on him once more. Some fear had since left them. Tears began welling in her eyes as she stared at him.

"Shh. It will be okay." He sat down next to her, but made sure not to touch her. The people passing them gave them strange looks. "There is nothing to fear. You will find your way home."

The girl returned her head to her knees. Her shoulders still shook, but not as much as before. She mumbled something.

"What was that? I did not hear you."

She raised her eyes at him, teary and scared. "Promise?"

How strange. Genji made a mental note to talk about this to the doctor later. He was quite sure he just felt something break inside him.

"I promise," he answered solemnly. "And I will not leave you until you do."

The girl sniffed and hesitated, before shuffling herself closer to him. Leaning on his arm, she gasped and heaved one or twice more before settling down. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, just quieter now. She closed her eyes.

Genji awkwardly reached over with his other hand and patted her on the head. She didn't seem to mind, so he kept patting her on the head. Awkwardly. He let some time to pass. After a while, the girl looked almost asleep. She was breathing slowly now, eyes still closed, still leaning on Genji.

He hesitated. "Are you… asleep?"

She shook her head.

"Dead, then?" he tried. He immediately regretted his words.

She giggled. The sound of it filled him with glee and cast his regret to oblivion.

"Are you ready to start looking for your mother?"

She nodded into his arm. Then she stood up, and clumsily dusted her pants. Her eyes were still puffy, but they were calm now. Kneading them with a hand, she reached for Genji's hand with the other.

Genji felt something in him twist at the sight of this. "Would you like to rest a little bit more?"

The girl coughed. "No," she said softly. "I'm okay now."

"All right. Where do you feel like going? Which path seems the most familiar?"

She considered for a moment, thoughtful. Looking between the junctions, she finally pointed to the one on the right.

A few moments into walking, she broke the silence. "You won't leave, right?"

"No," he confirmed kindly. "I swear on my… on my—" What did he have to swear on? Not much, to be honest. Maybe he did once, but there was the small issue of him not remembering a thing. "—on my name," he finished lamely.

The girl glanced up at him quizzically.

"My name is Genji," he added, pausing. "What about yours?"

"Hana."


	18. Chapter 18

"Welcome! What can I do you for?"

The man behind the counter had coarser, darker skin as opposed to the whiter tones of the people Genji had seen so far, with lively green eyes almost hidden by a fringe trailing from a messy mop of hair atop his head. He had on a brown shirt stained at the sleeve, where large, hairy arms protruded from each side. They looked strong and muscular despite his considerable paunch. His manner of speaking and general behavior reminded the cyborg of another tanned-skin individual he last seen on the watch point. He still felt bad about the chili incident.

It was clear that the man paid as much attention to tidiness of his store as his person. Wires of every shade of grey trailed down from shelves stacked against the walls of the room, tangling into each other between metal things set precariously upon them. All of them looked broken beyond repair; random parts littered the shelves and floor alike which Genji carefully stepped over, shifting the sleeping girl nestled on his arm ever so slightly to gain a better view of where he was going.

"Greetings," he said, pulling out the enigmatic black cube, "I hear this is where I can get this repaired?"

"Well, isn't this something?" The shopkeeper took the device from Genji, held it up to the light and examined it closely. "Mind me asking where you got something like this?"

"It was given to me."

"Given to you, huh?" His eyes flicked up to the cyborg, his countenance cool and impassive. His gaze softened somewhat as he moved his gaze to the girl sleeping into his shoulder.

Reaching beneath the counter, he retrieved a small case and popped it open, revealing intricate, tiny tools which with a deftness Genji would not had believed was possible from him, pried open a panel from the strange device. He leaned down with a magnifying glass and inspected the inner-workings.

"Imaging capacitor's busted," he muttered, and looked up at Genji. "I have a spare one, but I warn you, it's not going to be cheap to get it fixed."

"Cheap?"

He raised his eyes. "No, not cheap, I said."

The cyborg kept his silence. The soft breathing of Hana and the quiet hum of the air-vents occupied the room.

"Money?" Genji finally said slowly.

"Yes," the shopkeeper replied, just as slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Money, and quite a bit of it. Do you have enough to cover this?"

Confused, Genji pulled out his wad of notes, placed it on the table, and selected the larger pieces. With these, he carefully placed them over the top of the device, obscuring it from view. "I have finished."

The man looked up, drawing his lips into a line. "Do you want to get kicked out?"

"But I—"

"That's not enough," he cut in, leafing through the notes on the counter. Using the same tools, he carefully affixed the panel back on and pushed it towards Genji, along with the money. "Come back when you have more."

"The device, I'm supposed to—"

"Have a good day, sir."

Genji deflated. He collected his things and began negotiating his way back out. "How will I explain this to the commander?" he murmured.

"Hey, stop there."

Genji turned around.

"Commander?" His face was inscrutable.

"Yes," he answered. "Commander Morrison."

The shopkeeper stared at him for a moment, before bursting out in laughter, hands on his belly. "It's no wonder! Of course!"

"I'm sorry?" Genji asked, bewildered.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," he said, beckoning him over. "Get back here. You should've mentioned Morrison right off the bat. How's the lad doing? I assume he's finally back?"

"He is well, and yes, you assume correctly."

"I should've guessed, the company he keeps… oddities! Every one of them." He shook his head. "Here, give that over. Keep the money. The lord knows I owe Morrison a lot more than an imaging capacitor." The man looked up, once again beginning the process of disassembling the device. "And what's with the girl? Looks like a local."

Genji glanced at the girl sitting on his arm. "I happened across her when I was making my way here. She was lost. We spent some time wandering before she grew tired."

"Doesn't explain why she's snuggled into you, peaceful as a kitten by a fire. Now _that_ in particular, is unusual."

"Am I really that strange?" asked the cyborg, his tone slightly amused.

"You might be to some, but not to most, I reckon," he said, bending his head down for a closer look inside the device. "No, it's clear to see you aren't from around here."

"Because?"

"Because you don't seem to know that this isn't the right time to show yourself around. Don't take it the wrong way, any friend of Jack's a friend of mine, but have you seen any other omnic here so far?"

Genji didn't bother to correct him. "No."

"Exactly. That's because they're hidden away right now, and only come out to handle their own affairs when people, that is to say, humans, are asleep. It's become a bit of an unspoken ritual which started soon after the first _Incident_."

"The…"

"A number of years ago," he started, anticipating the question, "a massive colossus of an omnic, wide as two whales swimming abreast and twice as tall, came ashore and started assaulting the coastal cities and towns of Korea. Why? From where? Who built it? Nobody knows. But if there's one certainty, one constant that everyone agreed on and clung to as if it would bring them comfort, as if it mattered, is that it's an _omnic_. You follow me?"

Genji nodded.

"One thing you must understand, my good omnic, is that this country is one seeped deeply in tradition and superstition. For all the talks and reassurances from the local government and international omnic engineers, the voices of old women of the towns and cities hold sway over the opinion of the population. And it is in them old legends, myths, and superstition reign."

"Myths? Superstition? What does that have to do with me?"

"Have you not understood? Come now, even a toddler would have already connected the dots, for only remembering a time a jar of sweets shattered onto the ground. After the giant lumbered back into the ocean and the dust settled, the people overcame their shock and sought to explain what happened. But no one knew what happened or how, so they instead settled on the immediate omnic residents, who mind you, were also victims of the disaster. At first, there was fear, which bred anger, which spawned blame, which festered into resentment, which simmered into indifference, directed to the omnics. They walk the streets masquerading; like there aren't any omnics in their city, like they never existed."

Genji watched the shopkeeper work in silence for a moment. "And no reconciliation was made? No explanation?"

"Oh, they tried," he answered, now using a very small pair of tweezers to extract a bright blue module from the chassis. "They really did. But broken cities and sea-soaked corpses are no trivial thing. The _Incident_ , all those years ago, was so much more than a broken cookie jar. So much more. Before you know it, friendly neighbors and friends turn hostile and cold, and the frigidness worsens with each subsequent incident."

"It's still happening?" Genji asked, aghast.

"Unfortunately," he sighed. "The sequence is seemingly random, but it's always a span of five to seven years between each one. The worst part is that it learns. It adapts, and comes back each time with armor in identified weak spots and weapons which decimates frontline defenses, and leaves each time in a wake of death, smoke, and screams, never straying too far from the sea."

"But why? What does it want?"

"Why, indeed? I'd like to know myself. Recent times though, has made me fear less about its coming and more about what it leaves behind."

"Death? Destruction?"

"Aye," he said, "there's that, but no. For it also leaves behind an insidious hatred which seethes in the hearts of the people for something right in front of them that they can see, something they can blame in all their confusion, and an uncertainty and fear which gnaws and grows more eerily quiet with each passing day, to a point where it's even taboo to mention it anymore." His hand was steady as he guided a similar blue module back in. "Fools."

"And so despite the efforts of local authority," he continued, "the people turned to their elders in panic, like children hiding behind the skirts of their mothers, and it is there they found solace in attributing the colossus's existence to the local omnic population. 'Machines! Monsters! Things of metal and made by men!' the elders screamed, the young'uns quickly taking up the choir. 'This is how you thank us for giving you life? Whispering secrets to an evil giant, commanding it to destroy our city? Hive-mind scourges!' Would you believe, one day before they were sharing conversation and laughter? It is a sad and fickle thing, but there you go."

"And you?" Genji sounded pained. "What about you?"

"I know better." There was no hesitation in his voice. "I don't believe in the so-called _wisdom_ of the elders. And it's like I said, it's all very hush-hush. I can't blame them though, I can see why they would want to put something like that behind them and get on with their lives. But blindly connecting all omnics to it?" He shook his head. "'Tain't fair."

"Y'know," The man continued, taking a strange, long contraption from the desk which emitted sparks from the tip, and proceeding to delicately jab the inside of the device with it, "I know it sounds horrible—and that because it is, but there's a reason why I'm still here. The last time the thing resurfaced was just a couple weeks after when I moved here with my family. My… niece. In the inferno, under all that rubble, it was Commander Jack who pulled her out. Weak, covered from the tips of her hair to her toes in white dust and bloodied, but alive. I vowed to leave this wretched place as soon as she was able with the rest of my family, but the people—they can be stubborn, unreasonable, cold and unfair, but they can be kind, caring, and capable of sacrifice."

Genji watched intently as the insides of the black cube lit up with every contact the contraption made, buzzing and sputtering as it did so. He kept his silence.

"I owe them as much as I do the Commander," he continued. "When he yelled for people to help him lift the slab trapping my niece, they did. They bowed their heads and prayed for her as we stood outside her operating room, when they barely knew us. Yes, they can be kind, they're just misguided by their fear." He shrugged. "Besides, I'd had already set up shop here tinkering with gizmos and gadgets, seems to be the only thing I'm good at. Been doing this in my hometown in Ohio for as long as I can remember."

The cyborg remembered a similar story told to him, while he rested immobile on an operating table. He pulled the girl closer to him subconsciously. "I'm sorry."

"Why should you be? Ain't your fault, and things turned out fine for young Victoria," he said, giving the cyborg another hearty laugh, before growing serious once more. "Listen, the only reason why I'm telling you this is because you deserve it, at least. It doesn't matter how long you stay here, just understand—and harbor no resentment toward the people. The lord knows there's been enough of it around here."

"I understand," he asserted, pausing. "How long ago was it, when you first arrived?"

His eyes grew haunted. "Seven years ago." He quickly yet carefully screwed the panel back on, and pushed it back across the counter. "Here you are. Try to avoid banging it about, it's not very shock-proof." He turned towards a sink to the back and started rinsing off his hands. "You still haven't told me, how did you manage to have her so comfortable with you?"

"She was desperate. And I was the only one there who noticed her."

"She wasn't afraid?"

"Very much so," he said, watching her small figure rising and falling as she breathed, "but she calmed down as we continued to talk, and I promised to help her find her way home."

The shopkeeper turned back with towel in hand, studying Genji. "Still, that is unusual. Very unusual…"

Genji grew uncomfortable under his stare. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. The girl looks awfully familiar. You spoke with her, you said? Did she give mention of a name?"

"Her name is Hana."

"Hana, huh? Last name?"

"I didn't think to ask for one," Genji replied, feeling foolish.

He laughed and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. If memory serves, she's a Song. I recall her mother complaining about a particular daughter never leaving the house, always on this video-game which name escapes me presently, but I've seen her once before. Yes, I'm sure of it now. You can find the Song residence just turning right as you leave, and continue up till you reach a hill. Keep your eyes—er, scanners?—open to the right until you see a clay dove statue through some gates, that's your destination."

"Thank you. May I ask you one more thing, before I go?"

"Go right on ahead."

"Would you know anything about the… _Revolution_?"

"Ah, that's a curious subject. It's best not mentioned to the locals here. There's been some speculation going around that the omnics of the city— _and welcome, Madam Wong_! How are you this fine evening?"

Genji turned round. In the doorway stood an old lady in a grey coat which matched her hair. "I'm well, thank you. Good evening to you," she greeted warmly, slowly pacing up to the counter, pointedly ignoring the cyborg.

"And what can I do you for today?" He lowered his volume and said, "give my regards to Jack, and you're welcome to return any time should you need anything."

Genji gently bowed his head in thanks, careful not to shift the weight on his arm. Once again navigating through the rug of wires, he stopped with one palm on the door and called over his shoulder, "May I have your name?"

The shopkeeper raised his eyes, and smiled. "Joe."

"Genji," he responded. "Thank you for all your help." With that, the cyborg pushed open the door and left.

Industrial buildings and business offices dissolved with traffic into a quiet, suburban area where concrete houses tiled with ceramic shingles were enclosed by gates and fences. The occasional car drove by as Genji took his time pacing up the hill, the purr of engines and scraping of tires on roads briefly muting the ambient noises of the night. The things around him slowly transitioned to different shades of green as the sky grew darker away from the heart of the city, with noise at the edges of his vision.

He passed homes of varying design of its gates and exterior decorations and structures, until he came upon one with a clay pedestal at the center of the courtyard with a clay dove atop, wings splayed to either side, in a perpetual stance of posturing to take flight. It stood beneath a wooden balcony which peeked from the second floor.

Genji looked around and found a white button by the side of the gate. He pushed it. Nothing happened.

After several tries to no avail, and peeking through the grates in the gate to see a dark, seemingly empty house, he sat down slowly on the asphalt pavement cross-legged and leaned against the wall, shifting the girl slightly to a horizontal position in a cradle of his arms. He worried that the metal would feel cold to her, not that there was much he could do about it.

He looked up at the carpet of stars. Here, he could hear the soft sounds of the creatures of the night as they awoke. He wondered if any of the stars he was looking at at that moment were the same ones from the shores of the Rock. It was in this moment, Genji suddenly felt overwhelmed. His purpose, his confusion and everything in the world around him. So small, so insignificant. _What is there to behold, in the land beyond the horizon, which separates heaven and earth?_ he wondered, _I follow a path blindly, unable to see two steps before me, but where does it go? And where does it end?_

The cyborg lost track of time as he contemplated these questions. A Shimada. The youngest son of the most notorious crime syndicate in Japan. He thirsted to know more. Who was he? What was he like? What family did he have? Were they kind? Were they evil?

Why was he exiled? Why was he left within an inch of his life? By whom?

The images of him from his past life swam into his thoughts. Was he arrogant? Shy? Quick to anger, or patient and kind? He didn't participate in any violence, but did he try to do anything about it? An alternative solution?

"Papa?"

Genji looked down. The little girl slowly blinked bleary eyes. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hana, but I am not your father."

"It's okay," she said, her voice thick with sleep. She wiped her eyes with a sleeve and sniffed. "Then you won't go away." The specks of light overhead drew her eyes.

The cyborg too turned his gaze skyward. For a long moment, they just stared up into infinity, punctuated by twinkling stars, before—

"Hana?!"

They turned to see an almond-haired woman standing by the side of the road, a little away from them down the hill. Her eyes were swollen and red, which at present were widened in shock and disbelief.

"Momma?" the girl said. Genji stood up and put her down.

"Hana!" With impressive speed, the lady all but sprinted to her. Without breaking momentum, she swung her arms out, catching Hana, lifting her into the air and pulling her close to herself, spinning. "It's really yoooou! Hana! Oh, I'm so, so sorry. I'll never let you out of my sight again, my precious baby girl… Hana…"

"It's not your fault." She patted her mother on the shoulder as she sobbed into her hair. "I wandered off. I'm sorry, momma."

"It's okay… everything's all right now. Don't cry…" the lady whimpered.

"But I'm not crying."

"I know. I'm talking about me."

"Ma'am?"

She turned to the cyborg.

"I apologize for not being able to return your daughter sooner. I am not very familiar with the city and—"

Alas, with all the stress, anxiety, and feelings of helplessness built up over the course of the last few hours, only to have it all dispelled in a single moment of catharsis, the sight of the cyborg might had been the final nail in the coffin as she swayed, eyes glazed over, before losing her balance and falling toward the ground.

Genji caught her, of course, but not without a sigh.

* * *

Author's Notes:

 _Another long wait between chapters. Never fear, however, as it's time well spent for me to consider where to take the story, and what parts I may want or need to omit. On that note, I suppose it's worth mentioning that every chapter so far has never needed a rewriting except for chapter 17, the one before this. I'm at a stage where I actually plan ahead now-crazy, right? But I totally underestimated the difficulty of bringing life to a new city and what it can teach our cyborg friend. You're going to have to trust me on this, though I'm not very sure if I can really trust myself. XD_

 _I'll see this story through, and I'll make sure every sentence of every paragraph of every chapter is a product of me doing my best. I refuse to put out anything less._

 _Thank you all so much for your patience and reviews, and stay tuned for the next one!_


	19. Chapter 19

Genji felt a gentle resistance as he tried to pull away.

He looked down to find Hana with both arms around his left leg, locked in an embrace.

"You promised you won't go," she whispered.

Genji grew confused. He looked around and surveyed the dark living area where he laid her mother down on the couch, then down at the girl clinging onto him in the vestibule. "This is your home?"

She looked up confused, and nodded.

"And I have brought you back safely to it," he stated.

She nodded again, more hesitantly this time.

He stared at her. She returned it, either not understanding or choosing not to.

"Have I not fulfilled my promise?" he asked after a moment.

Slowly, the girl detached herself from him and stepped back. Still staring at him, tears started to well in her eyes.

 _What have I done?!_ thought Genji, absolutely bewildered. He frantically looked around, as if it would help, while Hana started to sob. He knelt down and came eye level with her. "Please, don't cry. What is the matter?"

"You said… You promised you won't go away."

Was that what he promised? The cyborg began to doubt his own memory. What _did_ he say? He was sure he said something along the lines of bringing her home safe, but then why was she crying now?

Without knowing what else to do, Genji started patting her on the head. Confusion was something he was already very accustomed to, at least. "I'm very sorry Hana, but I really must go."

That wasn't the right thing to say. Hana shook harder in silent grief. The cyborg felt deep regret as he watched her, but he really couldn't stay.

"I won't ever see you again, will I?" she finally said, having calmed down some.

"Would you want to?"

"Yes," she replied, rubbing her eye.

Genji shook his head. "I do not understand."

"Huh?"

"Why would you?"

"Why would…"

"You are afraid of me, are you not?"

Even though the words were said carefully and kindly, Hana immediately looked down in shame. Genji waited for a response.

"...was," she mumbled after a while to her feet. "I'm sorry." She looked up once more, eyes pleading. "Please stay?"

The cyborg regarded her for a moment, and shook his head. "I must go," he repeated, placing a hand on her head before she could protest. "But I will return, if you wish it."

"Yes," she said quickly before he could change his mind. Just as Genji began to stand, she tackled him around the neck in a hug. "Thank you."

Caught by surprise, Genji hesitated before returning the embrace. "You're very welcome. We will see each other soon."

He waited for her to let go. She didn't. Slowly disentangling himself, he stood up and opened the door. Moonlight shined off him as the sound of crickets and the night's chill flowed through it. Hana leaned against the doorframe, a hand on the door, as she watched him slowly disappear down the hill.

Having reached the foot of the hill, Genji heard an odd buzz which sounded like it originated from his person. His heart jumped. The image of a large wasp of a glossy carapace of yellow and black came into his thoughts which sent his body into a wave of frenzied spasms before he remembered his body was encased in airtight armor.

Genji eventually discovered that the repaired black cube vibrating against him was causing the noise, and quickly glanced about in embarrassment. Fortunately, there was no one else on the street to witness his less than dignified episode. The cyborg pulled it out, watching the little thing shifting itself about his palm as it vibrated, a blue band of light streaking from its middle. It blinked in rhythm to the vibrations.

It was at this moment Genji realized he had no clue how the communicator worked. There didn't seem to be any physical buttons about the device, the entire thing being brushed in a matte black except for the section of blinking blue light. He turned it around in his hands. He shook it and tried to gently twist the section above the line of light, before stopping when it didn't give, remembering its fragility. At a complete loss, he brought it up and knocked it against his faceplate several times. Still vibrating.

"What…" he muttered to himself.

" _What_ …" a synthetic reproduction of his voice said back to him. Genji held the device away from him at arm's length. He felt a sudden strong urge to throw it. Didn't matter where, just _away_ from him. Would it grow legs too? A different voice came through this time, an unfamiliar female monotone. " _Initiating voice protocol for: subject zero, zero, two. Access authorized. Coordinates confirmed and logged. Connecting transmission."_

The blue illumination disappeared from the device as the vibrating ceased. A small segment from the top collapsed inwards, and light shot from there instead. For a second, the light beamed out into the night before focusing into itself, solidifying, and coalescing into a very familiar figure.

"Doctor Ziegler?" Genji asked in disbelief.

"We finally speak again, Genji," she said. Her voice sounded tiny coming from the device. The doctor looked haggard. She stood with hands in the pockets of her crumpled white coat, dark shadows hanging beneath half-lidded eyes. Despite this, she smiled fondly. "How have you been?"

"I've been well," he lied, continuing his walk. "And you?"

"I'm good too," she replied. "Just been going over some paperwork to prepare for my arrival in Nepal. Got to make sure I transition into Yellowstone hospital without a hitch, after all."

"You lie," stated the cyborg flatly. "You are _not_ good. You look like you can barely stand, Doctor Ziegler."

" _Angela_. You did too," she pointed out.

"How—"

"Jack filled me in when you reached Korea." Her face softened. She looked so tired. "How are you, really?"

"Worried, now. Doc—Angela, it brings me unease to see you caring for all besides yourself."

Her eyes brightened as her face lit up in a big smile. It was difficult to see through the fuzzy details of the blue hologram, but did her cheeks darken in color?

"Genji?"

"Yes?"

"Can you say that again, please?"

"I said I brings me unease that you care for everyone but your—"

"No," she interrupted. "Before that."

Genji paused. "I'm… worried?" he tried.

"After that." She was growing impatient now.

The cyborg reached up and scratched his helmet. "Angela?"

She giggled, not saying anything.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she said, collecting herself. "That's the first time you said my first name, isn't it?"

He took a moment to think. "No," he started, "I don't believe so."

"Are you sure?" she responded, skeptical. "I'm sure I would have remembered it."

"It was last night" — _Was it really just last night?_ he thought, _it already feels like so long ago_ — "You were barely conscious as I brought you to your room to rest."

She was fidgeting uncomfortably with a lock of her hair. "You _brought_ me to my room?"

"Of course."

"So to do that… you had to carry me."

"Naturally. How did you think you would wake up in your bed, and not on the shore?"

"I suppose I didn't give it any thought." Her head was bowed now, and Genji couldn't see her eyes. He tried to duck down while keeping the communicator higher, but it clearly didn't work that way. Seeing the same image despite adjusting his perspective, he might as well had been trying it on a screen.

"Are you… embarrassed?" he asked curiously.

"Well, yes. Especially since I have no memory of it," she admitted.

"I do not see why you should be. It's the second time I've—"

"Second?!" She looked up.

Genji leaned back at the sudden outburst. "I suppose you wouldn't remember—"

"When?" Her voice was of a considerably higher pitch.

"When I first awoke after you saved my life, doctor," he answered, "you collapsed from exhaustion, and I caught you before you reached the ground, and carried you to your room."

"I should start research on sustained stimulation on cognitive faculties," she mused thoughtfully. "It would reduce the number of bruises and pains I occasionally wake up to at the very least, if I can stay awake longer. And caffeine only helps so much."

"Or you can simply sleep," Genji said softly.

She waved him off. "I get enough."

"You _black out_ from exhaustion—"

"I don't have the time!"

"Time you are spending talking to me now," he pointed out.

"That's because you're important to me," she said without missing a beat. "And it's crucial I have an update of your physical and emotional well being. So, how are you?"

Genji stopped walking and coolly maintained his attention to the hologram. He did not respond.

"All right, fine. I'll head off to bed after this," she said, giving in.

The cyborg remained unwavered.

"And I promise to get some more sleep," she muttered after a moment.

Relaxing, Genji continued onto the docks. "Really, I'm fine. Though I've felt much hostility since my arrival, I do not feel as lost as I had before. I think I understand."

"Understand?"

"Yes. How people can feel, and what drives them to act and behave as they do." He hesitated. "But I cannot help but wonder, what and where am I? What part am I supposed to play in this world I have forgotten? What is my role?"

"Rediscovery," she whispered.

"What was that?"

Her eyes looked soft and incredibly fragile, and very far away. "It must be scary, braving a world you don't understand. Seeing so much, yet recognizing so little." She raised her eyes and looked at him. "I am ashamed I have done so little to alleviate your pain, despite saving your life." Just as Genji was about to interrupt, she raised a hand to stop him. "Listen to me, Genji. You must trust yourself. Even if you feel trapped within the confines of your mind, don't hide in it. See, and learn. Watch the world around you. You will find out the person you was, then you will understand who you're supposed to be."

"How can I possibly trust myself with where I've come from? A member of a family whose lives are dedicated to crime?" he inquired thoughtfully, after a moment.

"Because I trust you," she put simply. "I believe in you, now you must believe in yourself."

"I wish I shared the same optimism."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," he said immediately.

Angela smiled. "Then that should be enough."

So easy. Genji sighed. He knew nothing about himself, and at times he wasn't even sure how he was supposed to act and respond to others, like he was an actor to a play he was thrusted into during its last moments, fumbling over lines he'd barely read. He nodded.

"I wish you were here," she said. "You and Lena both. I've gotten too used to having you around. Winston feels the same way too, I'm sure."

Genji smiled. "Likewise, I hope we can see each other soon—"

"No! Brandon!" the doctor shouted, looking off to the side. "Stop that, it's filthy in there. I'm sorry Genji, but can we leave it off here for now? I'll call you back soon."

"Get some rest, doctor."

"I already promised, haven't I?" she reminded, before ending the transmission.

Looking up, Genji saw he was back at the docks, with the large steel ship slowly rising and falling in the darkness, barely illuminated by dim streetlamps which lined the concrete. He wondered what time it was. With a start, a small window appeared at the edge of his vision, informing him that it was indeed a few minutes past midnight. _Really, I should learn to expect these things by now_ , he thought, as he returned to the ship shrouded by a moonless sky.

The morning that followed didn't really seem to agree with the cyborg. Startled by the morning alarm, he bumped into a metal post of his bunkbed, causing it to warp and collapse under the weight of the recruit sleeping above him. He fell and tumbled abruptly onto the ground.

"I'm so sorry," the cyborg said, raising his voice to be heard over the bells. He moved out of his bed and helped the man to his feet. "Are you alright?"

"Just fine," he gasped, attempting at a smile through his grimace of pain. It wasn't entirely convincing, especially since he was hunched over clutching his hip. "Don't worry about me." He looked up, eyes widening. "Hey, you're the one everyone's been talking—"

"Ten, hut!"

The bells stopped. Men sluggishly peeling themselves from beds immediately scrambled up and drew themselves up to full height beside their beds, the rustling of fabric occupying the silence that ensued as more of the soldiers in barracks three realized that the lieutenant was standing at the door. The man who fell from the bed quickly fell in in front of Genji.

Lieutenant Sobel looked from to broken bed to the cyborg briefly, and didn't press the issue. He glanced to his left. "Kyles, what time is it?"

"It is eight-fifty in the morning, sir!" Private Kyles barked, eyes forward.

"Private Kyles, ask me when you lot are expected at shooting range one."

"When are we expected at the shooting range, sir!"

"Five minutes ago," he said curtly, turning from the door. "Move it, grunts!"

"Sir, what about breakfast?" came a voice from behind Genji, loud and clear.

A few people groaned as the lieutenant slowly turned back into the room. His face was entirely devoid of emotion, or so it seemed. "Who said that?"

"That was me, sir. Right here."

"Come forward."

The recruit stepped up to him. He seemed so much smaller being before the broad lieutenant with hands folded behind his back.

"What's your name?"

"Paves. Richard Paves, sir."

Sobel smiled coldly. "Well, Paves Richard Paves, hungry, are we? Would you like some breakfast?"

"Well, sir… I, uh—"

His hideous smile quickly faded. "A straight answer. Now."

"Yes, sir," he said meekly.

Pin-dropping silence as the lieutenant regarded him. Genji couldn't even hear anyone breathing. After a too long, extremely tense moment, the lieutenant raised a hand. Richard Paves flinched, preparing for the blow.

"You, and you," he called, pointing to two men near the back of the room. "Come forward."

They came forward.

"Both of you are to retrieve a single table and chair from the cafeteria, and collect a serving of breakfast which you will then serve to Paves Richard Paves in this room. You will then ensure that he has properly eaten and had his fill. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

"Would anyone else like some breakfast?" He turned his gaze to the room. Some men stood up straighter. None uttered a word. "Dismissed," he said to the two recruits, waving them off. They ran from the room.

"As for you, Paves Richard Paves, you will remain in this room until you have finished your breakfast, with not one crumb remaining. I tremble in worry at the thought of you collapsing in training due to hunger, so understand that it is from my deep concern for you that I forbid you from leaving this room until you have done so, or your bunk-mates will suffer the consequence for neglecting your well-being."

Private Paves gulped audibly.

"The rest of you, shooting range—now." He left through the corridor.

Everyone released a breath they had been holding and hastily shrugged on their fatigues, all morning fatigue expelled. Nobody looked at Private Paves as they filed out of the room, except for a certain cyborg, who saw the private's body locked up with cheeks crimson, hiding his eyes with head bowed. From anger or shame, Genji couldn't tell, as he followed the rest to shooting range one.

* * *

Author's Notes:

 _Time really flies, doesn't it? It feels like just yesterday when I stepped into the office for the first time, eager to prove myself and appropriately nervous, and now I find myself eagerly awaiting the end of my internship, which would be this Friday. But it doesn't end there, I'm afraid. Straight back to school to deal with a great deal more work is in store for me after the weekend, but every moment of inactivity or irrelevance will be spent thinking of this story, and looking for inspiration and the like, which is to say, in my classes._

 _Thank you all so much for patience waiting for this chapter, and stay tuned for the next one. PEACE._

 _Oh, and for those who would like to see more coverage on other characters other than Genji, it really remains to be seen even from me if it'll come. Sorry! The story kinda goes off on its own, I just set the stones to direct it to major checkpoints._


	20. Chapter 20

Jack nodded at the procession of recruits filing through the door. They quickly lined themselves up by the walls and stood in silence.

"At ease, soldiers."

The group relaxed. This room was different. It was small, and brightly lit in every corner by the stark white light of naked fluorescent bulbs. The wall directly across them took the form of lockers; stretched from end to end with sections marked along its doors, paired with a keyhole.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're here today. You see, grunts, today is a special day."

The recruits continued to stand in silence, trying to not break eye contact first when the commander looked at them.

"Today is a day of tests. Tests to determine your strength, aptitude, endurance…" he said as he waved a hand absently, "…among other things. These tests will decide who gets placed in what squad, with what other members, and also, who stays."

Jack turned around and started unlocking the gun-cabinets opposite the men. He swung them open to reveal rows upon rows of different firearms of varying shapes and sizes, but all a uniform black. Rifles, pistols, and submachine guns hung from metal brackets within.

"Sir? You said something about—"

"Speak up, soldier."

"Sir, what did you mean when you said 'who stays'?"

The constant jiggling of his keys were occasionally interrupted by metal lockers knocking against each other as he continued down the wall of weapons. "Who continues to live up to the ideals of being a _Hound_. Look around you, boys. The one beside you may no longer be when this day is done."

The men nervously glanced at one another.

"But enough of that." He turned and gestured to the wall of weapons. "For now, let's do an accuracy test. Pick up the nine-millimeter, each of you."

Genji's mind wandered as he stared blankly at Jack. He started when he realized his group moved to the front, and nervously picked at the weapon on the second shelf, careful to choose the one identical to the ones chosen around him. Stretching his arm out, he lifted the small weapon off the rack—a wave of nausea crashing into him immediately.

His vision swimming and chest heaving, Genji gritted his teeth as he struggled to retain composure. He shut his eyes. Tasting bile at the back of his mouth, Genji almost felt relieved that he hadn't eaten anything. Slowly, with senses returning, the nausea subsiding, he deliberately opened them.

The cyborg found himself not having moved an inch, his arms and legs locked in position. He tried to move them. They did. Genji glanced around. The recruits were too preoccupied handling their weapons to have noticed his episode. Despite himself, he found intrigued by the deftness and even grace as the soldiers slid parts and pieces of the weapons they held into each other, apart from each other, inspecting it carefully before returning it to its original state in a series of sure, practiced gestures. He looked down to the one nursed in his hands, before looking away abruptly, fighting down another wave of nausea.

"Spilt yourselves into four groups and line up at the booths," Jack barked, "no firearm gets discharged without my signal. I will not repeat this again and will not tolerate any mishaps. And so help me if I find a single gun not at the counters without its safety on."

Everyone except Genji nervously glanced down, double checking their weapons, trying to look discreet. They failed miserably. They quickly divided themselves up, and—

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Sir," a soldier replied hesitantly, seeing that no one else was going to, "where exactly is the range?"

Jack levelly held his gaze, his face without emotion as he turned back to the lockers and slammed his fist onto a button Genji hadn't noticed. His mouth twitched into a smirk as the wall adjacent to them spilt into three horizontal panels very slightly with the sound of escaping gas. Some men stepped back as the panels rotated outwards with an unsettlingly familiar mechanical, whirring noise, which stopped when the panels hinged themselves into flat planes.

Between them revealed a much longer room. It wasn't lit as brightly as the section they stood in, the lights dispersed between rails crossing the ceiling.

Jack chuckled as he surveyed the men, and shook his head. "You should see the looks on your faces. Never gets old." He turned and pushed another button, and with a shrill, metallic screech, four large sheets of paper, held up by metal hangers, slid from an opening in the wall onto the ceiling-mounted aluminum rails, before coming to a stop in the middle of the range.

From where he was, Genji could make out the minute numbers marked beside each circle which contained another, ending with a red dot in the middle. The number grew smaller in value the further out it was from the center.

He looked away from the target as Jack started speaking. "Take your shots as fast as possible. Your rating will be determined by the grouping you achieve at the end of two magazines against the total time you take to do so. The tighter your grouping, the better your score; but take too long to do it, your shots might as well be all over the place. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the group shouted in unison.

"Good. First row, step forward. Fire when ready. The timer starts on your first shot, ends on the last. Keep in mind, your time taken to reload is also factored in."

Genji watched the four soldiers at the counter unload their weapons at varying speeds, wincing internally each time they were discharged. The flash of the muzzle shone against their figures for the briefest moment like lightning, and an incredibly loud _bang_ resonated within the room with each one. No one else seemed particularly bothered by it. A brief silence took the room as the four reloaded their pistols, the second one from the left dropping it in his haste. Soon after, the thunderous cacophony returned, and softened once again with lowered, smoking barrels, the one who dropped his ammunition being the last to finish.

The uppermost panel drew the eyes of all as it slowly rotated back into its original vertical state, and a bit more so it tilted down, facing the group. Red digits flashed on each one. They were screens.

The sheets of targets retreated nosily back into the crevice as Jack cleared his throat. "Not bad. Solid eights for all, except Private O'Malley. Keep your head up, soldier. These things happen. Just remember: it always pays to be slow and sure, instead of quick and hasty. Six is acceptable. Safety's back on. Back in line."

Genji watched closely as each man went to the front to take the test. He paid attention to their postures; how they held the weapon, and directed it. He tried to absorb it as much as he could, but he couldn't help but feel as uncertain as he had before.

Jack called each row forward quickly and efficiently, wasting no time, rarely giving brief comments.

"Our first ten." The commander nodded. "Where did you learn to reload like that, son?"

"The Alaskan mountain ranges with my family, sir." The soldier grinned. "We had little competitions every so often to see who could field-strip our weapons fastest, and also, who the quickest was to slam the clips back into 'em. I always won."

Jack looked critically down the range. "Grouping's impressive, but it could be better. Work on that. Well done, Private. Back in line."

He saluted and filtered to the back, the cyborg being pushed inexorably closer and closer to the front. Jack continued to dismiss each row with a simple nod, until—

"A two," the commander said flatly. The room was entirely silent save for soft snickering here and there, the singular scarlet digit seeming to bear down on the hunched shoulders of the recruit standing underneath it. "That's disgraceful, son. Fall back in."

The recruit turned to the back and strode quickly. He was cradling his firearm in both hands which trembled slightly, as if it was scorching his skin.

Jack watched him go, before eventually turning his attention back to the front of the columns, where Genji was now standing. "Next row, up the counters. Shimada, up here." He pointed at the ground in front of him.

Suppressing a groan, the cyborg paced quickly away from the now chattering mass and stood before the commander, stiff as a board.

"The rest of you, silence. Yes, the counters may continue on, no need to wait. This will take only a second. Shimada, turn around."

Genji turned around. All of a sudden, he felt his arms grow heavier as a small pressure asserted itself onto the back of his neck. Not only his arms. He was more sluggish, like a weight had been placed onto him. He resisted the urge to slouch.

"As much as I like filling out requisition forms, Shimada, I would prefer if you didn't accidentally damage anymore _Overwatch_ property," Jack said behind him, "what I've just injected into you is a couple thousands of lines of code that should limit your mechanical strength to a more… _normal_ capacity for exactly half an hour. How do you feel?"

"Slow."

"Don't worry, you won't get used to it. I imagine I would use this rarely."

The cyborg looked behind him, seeing Jack inspecting the strange baton-shaped contraption he bore, glowing from rings at both ends with one revealing a line of metallic teeth. "Still though, _thousands_ of lines of code? You must have been built more secure than the _Overwatch_ intelligence archives. Took Torbjörn a full week just to build the prototype, which nearly got issued until he found out it'd have the rather inconvenient side effect of terminating your respiratory functions too."

Genji gulped.

"Anyway, seeing how you haven't collapsed on me, I'd say you're good to go. Head up to the range." He patted Genji on the back before leaning into the radio on his shoulder and speaking into it. "He's fine. Send the stretcher back and re-station the response team." He paused. "Yes, I'm sure." He paused again, but rolled his eyes this time. "I wouldn't be much of a _strike commander_ if I can't handle situations like this, now can I? I'm sure the most I have to worry about is insubordination, which I'm certain I'm more than equipped to manage." Clicking a button on the device, he turned back to see the cyborg staring at him. "You're wasting time, soldier."

Genji glanced at the door. "There were people outside? Because of me?"

"In case you haven't noticed, you're a bit of an anomaly, even for us. And that's saying a lot, because dealing with anomalies is what we _do_ ," the commander explained impatiently, "I mean, we have a talking ape taking care of our administrative processes. A _talking ape._ " He shook his head. "The truth is, we don't quite know how to deal with you. But that's enough talk. The range, Shimada. If you please?"

Genji stepped up to the counters, closed his eyes, and tried his best to mimic the pose everyone else had been doing. He noticed that some of them held themselves ever so slightly different from one another, but there was a general uprightness that was present in each one. He drew himself up to full height, brought the weapon in front of him, and opened them.

Immediately, his vision started to swim as he looked down the iron sights. His stomach began to churn unpleasantly while his arms stayed resolute, coldly keeping the firearm level with his eyes. Trying his best to adjust his aim, he gently squeezed the trigger—only to find that he couldn't.

Squeeze. Nothing. Pull. Nothing either. With a start, Genji found that his arms and legs were locked up, cold and unmoving in contrast to the hot, heavy thundering of his heart.

The cyborg felt his throat seize up as the gun disappeared from in front of him. In its place, a pitch black darkness took his mind. His heart dropped. _Have I gone blind?_ he thought.

The chatter of the soldiers faded into silence. The gunshots followed suit. Genji gasped when a tiny green flame suddenly burst into life, flickering at a distance. It did nothing to illuminate the space, burning softly against the veils of oblivion. He tried in vain to move his body, to reach and touch it. Genji didn't know why, but he wanted to. He _needed_ to. It felt inexplicably important to him.

With a flash of white light and a deafening bang which shook his very soul, the noise and colors of reality slammed into the cyborg like a freight train, leaving his ears ringing with pain hammering into his temples.

"Shimada… Shimada!"

Genji rotated his neck and almost sighed in relief when his head actually moved. He saw that everyone was staring at him now, the other soldiers beside him already clicking their safety's back on.

"I know I said the timer starts on your first shot, but we ain't got all day," Jack said, glancing at his watch. "Finish up, soldier."

Turning back to the targets, Genji felt a strange disconnectedness as he pulled the trigger, again and again, listening to the bang which came with each one. When he heard the click of an empty chamber, he mechanically went through the motions of reloading his weapon before bringing it back up and repeating the process. He didn't watch to see where the bullets landed, if they did at all, for all he cared. He trained his eyes on the back of his hands as he focused on taking deep breaths, the pain in his temples slowly numbing over.

When he heard another click, his fingers of metal calmly turned the safety back on, before deliberately lowering the weapon.

Feeling a surreal mix of frustration and sadness, the cyborg found himself wishing that his arms would shake, that it would obey his heart in all its panic and anxiety. He wished that he could really _touch_ the gun, despite knowing that it was in his hands, and to _feel_ the metal, even when he knew it was cold. Arms like this didn't make him feel like he was responsible for what he did, like he wasn't a part of it. A nobody without a face operating controls that didn't belong to him.

Genji heard a soft whistle from behind him.

"A full ten, huh?" the commander said, sounding contemplative. "Not too shabby. Well done. To all of you. Put your pistols back where you found them and toss the empty magazines into that shelf. What are you waiting for? Yes, _now_." He paused. "No, Wolfe, _that_ shelf. Pay attention. You're all dismissed for breakfast in the cafeteria. Return to the training hall where you've first gathered at eleven-hundred hours. Except for you, Shimada." He beckoned at the cyborg with a hand. "Come to me after you've put away the gun."

That drew a few more strange looks the cyborg's way. He took his time moving to the racks and stowed the firearm back onto them, vowing that he would never pick another one up again, if he had a choice.

* * *

Author's Notes:

 _So I severely underestimated the amount of schoolwork I would be assigned._

 _Turned out that the weekend between my internship ending and school starting served as a too brief respite, like holding your breath underwater for so long, coming up for a single gasp of air, before being shoved back down under. It's been extremely stressful, and easily my most difficult semester so far. Which makes sense, since it's the last one._

 _Less than a month till it ends though, and I'm still holding in there! I'm sorry for this unexpected hiatus, and I'll try to find the time to write this whenever I can._

 _Thanks for staying tuned. :)_


	21. Chapter 21

Miyamoto opened an eye. "Ah, welcome back."

Genji stepped into the room and carefully closed the door behind him. He could feel his strength slowly returning.

"Take a seat, make yourself at home. I've prepared some breakfast for you." Miyamoto gestured to the steaming bowl in front of him, resting in a wooden tray beside a set of chopsticks. "I was just in the middle of my meditation. Dig in. We can begin once you're done."

The cyborg crossed the room and sat cross-legged in front of the old man. His eyes were closed once again, a peaceful smile playing at his lips. Genji wordlessly picked up the bowl of food and the chopsticks, looking at his face. At that moment, Genji thought Miyamoto didn't seem so old. With a calm smile, his back arched straight and his fingers locked and intertwined in front of him, he seemed more like a statue. One that wouldn't break under rain or wind.

Genji absently raised the noodles to his mouth, which his visor intercepted with a soft thud. His cheeks reddened. _Oh, right_. Could he had imagined it, or did Miyamoto's smile grow a little wider? Reaching behind his head, he pushed the pistons, releasing it. He pulled it off and set it on the tray, before returning to eating his food.

He took the first bite. His eyes widened. _This is delicious,_ he thought, _but what is this?_

Pale noodles were submerged into a rich amber broth, on top of which were slices of brown things seasoned with bright green herbs and dark spices. Genji brought the bowl closer to his eyes and poked at the meat slices with his chopsticks. "Chicken?" he whispered to himself.

"Beef," Miyamoto replied, opening an eye. "How are you enjoying the ramen?"

" _Ramen_ ," Genji repeated, feeling the word roll off his tongue. It felt… familiar. "It is delicious. It warms me up, from the inside." He picked at the beef and some noodles, and shoved it into his mouth. His cheeks felt to the point of bursting with flavor. Chewing slowly, the cyborg savored the texture, before taking another bite, and another, before long eating as fast as he could. Too soon, his chopsticks found the bottom of the bowl. He returned it onto the tray and leaned back, sighing.

"Quite the voracious appetite."

Genji looked up and saw the old man smiling at him, both eyes open now.

"I have eaten that before, haven't I?" the cyborg asked.

"So you are coming to understand what you may or may have not experienced before?"

Genji sat back up, leaning his arms on his thighs, staring at them intently. "I have for a while now. When I first woke up—everything was a blur, nothing really felt like it… _existed_. Like I was in a dream, everything around me shrouded in uncertainty and mystery." He touched his prosthetic fingers together, locked them, and brought them apart. "I still feel that way a little, but as the days pass by, some things are starting to get clearer. I cannot be certain if I have done one thing before or the other, but sometimes, I _feel_ like I have. When my body through the motions, there's this odd feeling."

"An odd feeling?" Miyamoto prodded after a moment of silence.

"A feeling of… _comfort_. A feeling like everything is all right—security… from deliberation."

"Ah…" he closed his eyes.

"Am I making sense?"

"Yes, you are," he replied, "more than you can imagine."

"What is it called then, if I'm not the only one to have felt it?"

Silence. Genji waited patiently for a reply, staring at his teacher's tranquil face. Just when he was about to ask if he had fallen asleep, Miyamoto took a slow, deep breath.

"It's a feeling of belonging, Genji. I feel it when I practice my craft, or when I'm resting in my garden gazing at the trees back in my hometown. I feel it when I watch curtains of rain fall from the heavens, the scent of earth filling my lungs. Yes, I know the feeling well, Genji, for it's a feeling of home."

"Home," the cyborg repeated.

"Yes, a place where you belong, where you don't have to be wanted or loved, but only to feel at peace with yourself."

"Where is home to me, then?" Genji looked at the metal walls of the ship. "Is this my home now?"

"It is wherever you make it, young farmer."

Genji was quiet for a moment. "I don't understand."

"You will, with time." Miyamoto deliberately picked himself up from the ground and patted his robe. "Are you ready to begin?"

With the pressing issue of his immediate hunger dealt with, the cyborg suddenly remembered the tasks set for him, not without a measure of guilt. "The things you told me to get, I haven't managed—"

Miyamoto waved him off. "To gather them? No matter. There isn't a time limit, after all." He smiled toothily. Moving to the back of the room, he opened a drawer from the dingy cupboard in the corner and retrieved two smooth wooden poles identical to one another, slightly curved along its length and ending with a blunted point. "Stand up, Genji."

Genji caught the object tossed over. He held it in his hands, feeling its weight, examining the grain of the polished auburn wood slightly longer than the length of his arm. His eyes widened. " _Wakizashi_ ," he breathed. He ran a hand along the wood, reveling at how it felt in his grip.

"I see you recall," Miyamoto said with a smile.

"I… do," replied Genji distractedly, still staring into the wooden sword.

"But do you remember how to use it, young farmer?"

Without warning, the old man closed the distance between them impossibly quick, the wooden sword, where just a moment ago was rested relaxed at his side, suddenly brought above him to strike. Genji could hear it whistling through the air.

Reflexively, Genji laid the flat of the blade against his hand, the other still clutching the hilt, angled towards deflecting the blow, moving a leg behind him in one swift compound movement.

The blow never came. Miyamoto swiftly transitioned the feint into a low horizontal slash aimed at the cyborg's middle section, which Genji narrowly dodged by shifting his weight onto the leg he moved. Keeping himself low, he channeled his momentum into a pirouette, sweeping his blade across in a counter-attack aimed at Miyamoto's shins.

Genji had never felt so alive. Every part of his being was electric, his body moving fast and sure, his mind acting on its own. The thrill swallowed Genji, and he wore it in the motion of storming wood.

Before realizing what he was about to do, and hesitating.

His blade found only air as Miyamoto jumped. Genji quickly glanced up to access his next move, only to find the sole of a bare foot occupying most of his vision, before being flung backwards at the force of the impact. The sword fell out of his hand.

Lying on the floor, Genji was surprised to find that he felt no pain at all. His metal body absorbed the impact of the kick and the fall to its entirety, leaving him only with a slight feeling of being winded and stunned.

Miyamoto came into view. "I would offer you a hand in getting up, but I fear my back can only take so much."

"Were you trying to kill me?!" Genji almost screamed, pushing himself off the ground. "You almost split my head open! Maybe a little warning next time?"

"With this?" He absently tapped the sword on the floor. "If something were to have broken, it would be anything but that head of yours. I doubt even a real, sharpened one would have left a mark. The same way I doubt that an attack done any other way would have had as much of an impact than if I did it as so. Your body naturally reacted to the immediate threat posed to you, being me, and in doing so allowed me to better understand your prowess in combat."

"Being?"

He smiled. "It exists."

They shared a moment of silence, and another moment of Genji wondering what was going on in the old man's head.

"But I've gathered that much on our very first meeting, do you remember? It was when I—"

"—hurled a blade at my face?" Genji interrupted drily, "I barely recall."

"Ah, so you do!" said Miyamoto, either choosing to ignore the sarcasm or missing it entirely. "Yes… but our little session today told us what it _is_. Imagine a cat in a box. You know that a cat is in there, you have no doubt. But what is it? Its color, its shape? Is it a fat white shorthair, striped in black? Or an elegant, dark-faced Siamese?" He began pacing around the cyborg, who in turn was watching him carefully, wary of another surprise attack. "Tell me, Genji, how would you find out what exactly it is?"

"I would open the box," he answered.

"Precisely!" Miyamoto had a pleased expression on his face, like a teacher who successfully taught a student the solution to a particularly difficult problem. "Which is exactly what we did today."

"And what did you find? In the box?"

"What, the cat?"

"What cat?"

"As I asked."

Genji paused. "Why are we talking about a cat now?"

"To help you understand the point of our practice today."

"Which is…"

"A story about a cat. In a box."

Genji waved him off. "No, the cat doesn't matter anymore—"

"It doesn't?"

"No. Whether it exists or not—"

"Ah, so you would like to discuss whether it actually is in the box or not? An interesting subject, that one. Let's say you cannot know for certain unless you open the box, and if we can assume that it not existing is truly in the state of it being _dead_ —"

"What?!"

"Was that not what you wanted to talk about?"

Genji was bewildered, and very confused. "No!"

"Well, I supposed we can another day…"

A moment of silence passed.

"So," Miyamoto started, smiling, "what would you like to talk about?"

"You have forgotten what we were first talking about," the cyborg stated.

"Haven't the slightest clue," Miyamoto confirmed, still smiling.

"Something about what you have found out?" Genji tried, "when you were fighting me?"

"Ah yes, I remember now." He raised his eyes. "Genji, what do you know about the way of the _ninja_?"

" _Nin-ja_?" The word felt familiar on Genji's lips, and he racked his memory to recall why that is. He felt like he was trying to tune a broken radio as his head started to hurt. " _Ninja_ …" he repeated. Something was coming to him. In his mind's eye, he could see a figure obscured in darkness, melded into the shadows. It wasn't uncertainty that shrouded him, however. That was just how the figure was, to his essence. "Darkness?" Genji tried.

"Very good," Miyamoto praised. "Ninja lurk in the shadows, silent, patient, and frightening deadly. Like an owl hidden in branches, the mouse would never know of its inevitable death, even as it occurs. Yes, I have no doubt. You were trained to the way of the ninja, young farmer."

"How can you tell?"

"You can tell a lot about a person by the way they carry themselves in a fight." Pacing back to his mat, he sat back down and gestured for the cyborg to do the same. "Your movements were lithe, smooth and done with flow. Transitioning, waiting, then attacking. You dodged when you could have parried, and you chose to strike as you tried to hide the motion with your pivoting body. I'm very familiar with the style, Genji, for it is the same which I practice." He raised a finger. "The style of water. You kept yourself low, close to the ground, versatile. Ready to spring with any intention."

Genji relaxed, confident that even Miyamoto wouldn't be able to launch an attack sitting down. "All that, in a single moment?"

"You would be surprised to see how much you can learn from information that's given to you, regardless of how long it takes for it to get to you." His eyes twinkled. "It was also very easy to tell that you are severely out of practice. Your body knows the movements, but your mind has forgotten the techniques. It is as though you were wearing a full suit of armor weighing you down, making you clumsy." He chuckled at his own joke.

Genji sat in silence, preoccupied with his thoughts. Trained to fight? For what? Even if a certain scientist had told him that he never participated in any public violence, why else would he know how to fight, if not for that purpose?

"What do you know of honor, Genji?" His voice was softer now.

The cyborg grit his teeth as his head immediately started to hurt. He fought it down. It seemed like it got easier with every passing one, but each was still as unwelcoming as the last.

"Honor," he continued, "is everything about you. It is your pride, your dignity, and your soul. It represents your purpose which encompasses your life, and it is a treasure which no one can touch except for you, one that no one can ever take from you, but something you can cast away on your own. It shatters as soon as you let it go, and it is very hard to get back."

"I don't understand," muttered the cyborg, rubbing his head.

"Nor do I expect you to. But you will, with time. Tell me, what is your purpose?"

Genji paused. The pain was almost gone. "I want to learn what it means to protect people close to me."

"A good purpose. Hold onto it, my young farmer. Remember it. Hold your head up high, move steadily, and do not hesitate. Your past matters little. There is only now, and the future; forward."

 _There's a reason why you are alive with us right now, and the only way left to go is forward._ The cyborg raised his eyes, his heart feeling a little lighter.

Miyamoto cleared his throat. "With that said, it would be preferable if you also do not hesitate in our following practice sessions."

Genji winced. "You noticed."

"Of course I did. It would help with your training if you don't, as well as showing me honor in not pulling your punches."

"I was afraid of hurting you."

"Please, I'm not decrepit yet. And in your current state, you wouldn't have." He smiled. "No more hesitation."

"No more hesitation," Genji promised after a pause.

"Good! Now, I believe there is somewhere you need to be?" Miyamoto said, consulting a digital watch on his wrist, "very soon?"

Genji sprang to his feet. "How long?"

"Two minutes," he replied matter-of-factly. "Till next time, Genji."

Genji bowed hastily and strode towards the door. When he reached the door-knob, he paused. "Sensei?"

"Yes?"

"Why were we practicing with wooden swords? Steel would not hurt me, right?"

The old man laughed. "It's not for your safety, it's for _mine_."

Genji turned some heads when he burst through the hall doors. The attention given to him was in the extremes; some eyes darted away quickly, others lingered. The recruits returned to their talking as the cyborg heaved a sigh of relief when he read the large, analog clock above the stage. He still had more than a minute to spare.

Moving to the nearest corner, Genji tried to act as normally as he could to not attract any attention. It wasn't any good; he could still feel people looking at him, and he didn't know quite where to put his hands. Glowing didn't really help either. Just as he resolved to fold his hands behind him and stare at the clock, he saw someone approaching him at the corner of his vision.

"Hey there," the recruit said with a smile when he got within earshot, "remember me?"

Despite there being just a wall behind him, Genji checked anyway. "Greetings. You are…" He stopped himself, registering the face before him, this time not contorted in pain. "…the man I caused to fall two meters to the ground this morning."

"Three," he corrected. "That's how far it felt like, anyway," he laughed.

"I—"

"Hey," he interrupted, "you already apologized once, and I know how hard it can be to find the words to apologize with sometimes, so I appreciate the effort."

The cyborg paused, stunned. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He held out a hand. "Will Pyre."

Genji looked at his hand, then reached for it and shook it. "Genji. Shimada."

"Let's do our best, Genji."

The cyborg smiled a smile no one could see.

The room fell into sudden silence as Lieutenant Sobel entered through the doors. "Line up," he barked.

The men complied.

"Follow me," he continued, turning his back and striding out.

No one uttered a sound as they followed the lieutenant through the labyrinth of halls. The silence was further exacerbated when the sound of footsteps ceased as the men waited for the heavy blast doors to slowly yawn open, before being filled with the sound of seagulls, shouting fishermen, and crashing waves.

The lieutenant led them into a large white tent constructed by the coast, right next to the ship. Inside, they saw Jack Morrison standing on a raised platform at the front, studying a clipboard.

There was a machine Genji had never seen before directly in front of him at the foot of the platform, with pipes and gauges covering most of its surface. It wasn't particularly large, just coming up to the waist and only slightly wider. He raised his eyes when he saw the lieutenant enter, who he dismissed with a nod after being given a quick salute.

The men filed themselves in the front, standing as still as towers, and waited.

Jack put away the clipboard. "It's time for your next test, with a small change in scenery this time around."


	22. Chapter 22

The commander cleared his throat.

"This time, you will find that your physical fitness will be less of a factor to passing. And yes, unlike our previous test, you can fail this one. Which of course, offers itself to consequences should you do. This test aims to measure your resourcefulness and ability to adapt."

Jack smirked. "Welcome to _Project Elixir._ Our research and development sector have discovered the unique and beneficial effects of the water intrinsic to this land, water which properties can treat chronic diseases. The current sample size is too small to do anything with, however, that's why we need you to help us find it, and retrieve it. Our current sample was found in a separate city north, but our team tells us another can be found here. Don't feel so confident, however. This special water, codenamed ' _elixir_ ', can only be found at a very specific location where while we know that it exists, don't know where it is.

The team took an hour to find the first sample. You will therefore also be given an hour." He gestured to the machine in front of him. "Inside this machine is a reservoir containing some of the _elixir_." The commander pulled out a white, opaque capsule from seemingly out of nowhere which he held up for the recruits to see. "This is the capsule — He twisted it at the end, removing the lid to expose an empty interior – which you will use to collect the water you find. The capsule has two settings, red and green." Turning the capsule around, he showed the switch at the side of the capsule, toggling it between the two colors. "At the end of the test, you will release the capsule into the machine which will read the setting of the capsule before it in turn releases the liquid you found into the reservoir. The machine will only accept water from a capsule set on _green_."

Now that the commander mentioned it, Genji could make out the tube jutting out of the machine at an upwards angle, a pipe just large enough to fit a capsule through. A little bit beneath it revealed a glass panel exposing the elixir, which looked just like water; unremarkable.

"I repeat: if you collected water but your capsule is set on red, it will _reject_ your capsule and you will _fail_ the test. If it is set on green, it machine will _accept_ your water and release it to the reservoir. Therefore, remember to have your capsule set on green if you have found the water. Yes?"

"How will we know if the water we found is the right one, sir?"

"Excellent question." He turned the other end of the capsule to face the soldiers. "This end of the capsule is equipped with a plastic that will form a black ring if it makes contact with _elixir_ , a little like a pregnancy test. Any other questions?"

The room kept its silence.

"Then off you go. Collect your capsules and return in an hour's time or you fail the test automatically."

Behind them, the flaps of the tent drew open with a hiss to reveal the city beyond. It looked very much different in the day. The glowing gem of the night, while still impressive, stood modestly with its grey facades basking in the light of the late morning sun with its occupants milling about, slow and relaxed after the rush of the early morning.

"One more thing."

The men turned.

"I recommend you return to this location fifteen minutes before the limit. Good luck."

The recruits filed out. Some seemed to already have a destination in mind, all but sprinting into a certain direction. Most, including Genji, ambled around the side of the tent unsure of where their search should begin, but with some uncertainly and a small measure of conviction, started heading off in separate directions.

The cyborg looked around in an unsuccessful attempt to find Will Pyre, curious about his method of searching. With a sigh, he decided to pick the only road he was familiar with. _If I can get to the top of the hill where I returned Hana to her mother, I can get a better idea of my surroundings and where I should start_ , he thought.

If it was even possible, the cyborg managed to attract more attention to himself than the evening prior. His armor shone like alabaster in the sun. He supposed that it was a small comfort to know that even when people were looking at him, they were having a hard time of it. That much he could tell, at least from their squints.

There was a group of children playing at the foot of the hill. Their shrill laughter joined the cacophony of the general noise of the day; the far-away chirps of birds, the rustling of trees, and the quiet engines of electric cars. It stopped as the cyborg got closer, and the children gravitated away from the road, sinking their chins into their necks under the shade of trees.

Genji walked faster.

He kept his head down. Passing each house, however, Genji would glance through the gates to see if he could spy a particular clay dove statue. And what if he did? Would he ring the doorbell, just to say hello? Genji found himself confused at his promise and what it was supposed to mean. _Don't the humans hate the omnics?_ He recalled Hana's mother collapsing at the sight of him. _Or fear them?_ Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea. Maybe…

Nobody was home. The clay statue in the courtyard was lit brightly by the sun, while the house in contrast was dark and empty through its shut translucent windows.

Genji moved on. He passed more residences, but paid them no mind as he concentrated on his task, and how he was to accomplish it. Clutching the capsule tighter, he took a step, then another, until he was upon the brow of the hill.

Genji's heart dropped. Buildings continued to line the land, making it impossible for him to access the west and east. There was only the path from which he came, and the one in front of him. With a sigh, he continued his journey, gazing at the expanse of the north. He could barely see the sea to his left, peeking over rocky cliff sides, and a forest of trees on his right. It looked severely out of place amidst the industry of the bustling city.

 _If I was a miraculous elixir, where would I be?_ the cyborg thought, _hiding in the soil of the shores, or seeking sanctuary under the canopies of trees?_ Genji groaned loudly and at length. The commander didn't give him much to go on, and he was starting to realize that now. Was it found underground? In a spring? Behind the bark of trees? Is it stagnant, or flowing? A river? A pond?

Turning left at the next junction, Genji decided that perhaps the open, slightly raised cliffs would be a reasonable place to start where he could access his next move. The buildings slowly grew more sporadic along the landscape, eventually disappearing entirely. The cyborg felt calmer under the quiet symphony of lapping waves and the rustling of the tall grass around him. Grasshoppers exploded from the ground with each footstep, and Genji could see wooden gazebos outlining the edge of the land, cobblestone paths snaking east from them to a large central temple-like structure some distance away.

Some were hidden behind natural ridges along the coast, from what Genji could tell from stone paths emerging behind them. He trained his gaze to the east, scanning the landscape. He had a better view of the forest from here, a sea of green right in the middle of the greys and whites of buildings. Besides that and the cliff side, he felt that there would be no other place he could find the elixir.

Genji yawned. Despite his circumstances, the cyborg couldn't help feeling sleepy. Seeing no one in his immediate vicinity, the cyborg pulled off his mask, and inhaled through his mouth. Tasting salt, he turned to the bright, iridescent sea, feeling the wind gently caressing his face. For a reason he couldn't quite fathom, he found himself feeling a little sad.

"Momma, what's out there?"

The cyborg jumped and turned, but couldn't find the source of the voice.

"Water, child. Water and sky," another voice replied lightly. The voices seemed to be coming over the nearest ridge. Craning his neck, Genji can barely make out the shelter of the gazebo.

"And what's under the water?"

"There's salt. Sand, and fish. And there are also some things in there that have never seen the light of the sun as the depths get denser, and darker."

Genji put on his mask. Silence followed.

"Do you see them, Hana?" the voice came, over the sound of the waves. "Do you see the fish diving from the surface? How their silver bodies glitter against the sun?"

"Oh."

"What's wrong?"

"A bird grabbed one. Did you see it?"

"I did. The other birds are trying the same."

"Why do they keep jumping from the water then, momma?"

"I wonder why."

"Are the fish stupid?"

A soft chuckle. "They could be. But I don't think so."

"So why do they keep doing it?"

"Mmm. I wonder why," she repeated, sounding more far away.

"Momma?"

"Sweetheart?"

"Can we have fish for lunch? After we're done looking?"

"Of course we can. But don't you think we've looked enough?"

"Just a little longer, please. He said he'd be back."

"So soon?"

More silence, then a sigh.

"All right. But what about we have something to eat first before looking some more?"

"Okay."

"Ready to go?"

"Can we stay here just a little longer?"

"Of course we can."

Genji allowed himself another moment of gazing out into the ocean, a moment shared with the two over the ridge. He wanted to go over to them and say something, but he wasn't quite sure what, and it didn't seem right interrupting their moment.

With that, he turned and left towards the east. It was just rocks and grass here. He wouldn't be able to find the elixir.

"Hana? Hana!"

Genji turned around—and nearly got knocked off balance from something small tackling his middle-section. A head of brown hair clung to white armor, which tilted up to reveal the beaming face of Hana.

"Found you!"

"Hello," he responded awkwardly, "I was just on my way to the forest… area."

Hana tilted her head, her eyes wide and curious. "What are you up to?"

Hana, with a hand clutching the cyborg's with the other her mother's, drew more than a few stares as they walked down the street. The little girl was perfectly at ease, humming a tune with a smile playing at her lips. The cyborg, on the other hand, was a little more uneasy, and was in that moment heavily invested in counting how many leaves were sprawled on the road immediately two feet in front of him as he walked. He already reached seventy.

The day was getting livelier as noon approached. The people wandered the streets, and deeper into the city, birds filled the skies with their colors and songs. Hana let go of Genji's hand, running forward, skipping, spinning, and laughing.

"Please, don't wander too far off," he called after her, "you might get lost again."

"Then you'll just have to find me again!" the girl yelled happily over her shoulder.

She darted from stall to stall along the road, like a bee among a bed of flowers, but predominantly moved along with Genji and her mother. Genji made sure to keep her within his sight.

"You know, she never leaves the house."

Genji turned to look at the lady who the very night before, quite literally fainted into his arms. Now that she's closer and didn't look like she was an inch away from death, Genji realized that she was quite a comely woman. Her almond hair was tied in a ponytail, accentuating the softness of her hazel eyes and fullness of her lips, which at the moment were slightly raised in a sad smile. Her skin was remarkably pale, which Genji guessed to be due to exhaustion.

"It's been a long time since I saw her this happy," she continued, "she's my little ray of sunshine. So bright and radiant, but so small and fragile. I want to give her the world, but I'm not sure I can."

They returned to looking at Hana frolicking between the stalls. The sun sparkled off her brown hair, and Genji laughed when one of the laces on her pink jacket smacked her in the face in one of her spins. It would had been easy to believe that that caused the redness in her face, if the blush on her ears didn't betray her.

She ran a little further ahead, in a more dignified manner this time.

"I understand why you feel that way."

"I never said thank you," she mumbled.

"I am sorry, what was that?"

"I… thank you. For finding Hana and bringing her back to me."

Genji raised both hands, flustered. "Please, don't thank me. It was pure luck that I happened upon her."

"Yes," she acknowledged, "but it's what you did after that for her which I'm grateful for as well. She already told me about it."

Genji didn't know what to say to that. "Of course."

She suddenly turned away as her ears grew red. "And also, when I… how do I put this?" Her face was positively glowing, looking at him. "When I… ah, happened to lose consciousness, and you—helped with me not falling to the ground."

"Are you well?" he inquired curiously.

"What?"

The cyborg leaned closer to examine her face. "Your face is unnaturally red," he put matter-of-factly.

"What?!" she exclaimed, turning away once more. "Yes, I'm fine!"

They continued to walk, with her taking deep breaths and with him feeling slightly confused.

"Did something happen?" he asked after a moment.

"Something…"

"You mentioned that she hasn't been this happy for a long time."

When the cyborg looked to her when there was no response, he was shocked to find a profound despondence upon her face.

"I-I am sorry," he said, stumbling over his words, "I shouldn't have asked. Please ignore—"

"No, it's all right," she interrupted. Sighing, she gazed up at the sky. "Hana used to love the sunshine. She had so many friends and would spent so long outside every day that it made me worry some evenings if she'd come home." She laughed at the memory. "One time, she didn't come home at all. I was so worried that I lost her, until I found her sleeping under a bench near our house, caked in mud. Apparently, she got dirty and was afraid I would punish her, forgot herself and had accidentally fallen asleep after being so scared to come home."

Genji smiled. "So did you punish her?"

"Of course, who do you take me for?" she replied haughtily, "I try to be a good mother."

"Of course," he laughed, "My apologies."

They shared a silence.

"Her father wasn't home that night. I tried calling him, but he didn't pick up. Back then, he wasn't always home. He used to be. He loved us very much, that I'm sure, but something happened."

She turned her face away. "During the times that he did come home, he never came home tired, or drunk. You know, I almost wish he did. It would have been simpler that way. No, he came back looking and smelling fresh each time, with only the clothes on his back I pressed for him the day before always, always crumpled. And he was happier."

More silence.

"I—"

"He always came back looking and smelling fresh," she continued, clutching her arm. She seemed smaller. "But I didn't recognize the smell. It was a nice scent, but we didn't have it anywhere in our house. Not in any of our perfumes, our soaps, _nothing_. But his clothes were always a mess. Where, where..."

Something shiny gathered at her chin, broke off and fell to the ground, darkening it. Her shoulders quivered. It ceased as quickly as it began. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Please, do not apologize."

Genji gave her a moment to collect herself. She wiped her eyes. After a few deep breaths, she said, "Hana was too young to understand it back then, and I think she still wouldn't be able to now. So all I can tell her is that he left for somewhere, and wouldn't be able to come back for a while. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Not in the least," he said firmly.

"Since then, Hana rarely smiled, let alone laugh. She seemed so tired all the time, like an old person. I tried to get her to go outside and play like she used to so much, but she just wanted to stay in bed. I realized why when I had to clean her sheets." One side of her lips pulled up into a weak smile. "She was crying into them. But it got better. She started spending more time in front of the computer. At first, I thought it would be bad for her. But sometimes when I walk past her door, I can hear cheers, and laughter. Then I figured that it couldn't be so bad. She still didn't want to go outside though, and sometimes it still felt like she was so far away from me."

She watched her daughter jump into a puddle. "But now? It was like nothing ever happened." She turned to the cyborg. "So thank you."

Genji stayed silent for a while. "I am sorry you have seen so much sadness."

None of them talked for a while.

"Sometimes I wonder if what I do is enough for Hana," she said.

Genji looked at her, and noticed she was on the verge of tears.

"I try my best, I really do. But is it truly enough? Does my love reach her? Am I enough to fill the hole in her heart her father left behind?" She rubbed at her eyes. "Am I a good mother?"

Genji stopped, and took her hand in his. She looked at him in surprise. "You are a wonderful mother."

She looked away, a tear rolling down her cheek. "But… I—"

"You are a wonderful mother," he repeatedly firmly.

More tears left its stain on the ground as she bowed her head. After what felt like a very long time, she nodded. "Okay."

"Momma?"

Both turned to face a very confused Hana. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the cyborg. "Did you make momma cry?"

Genji immediately let go of her hand and stepped back. Her laughter spared him the effort of coming up with an excuse. "He didn't, sweetie." She knelt down and embraced Hana, pressing her face to her daughter's hair. "Momma's all right."

"You're acting weird," she remarked, patting her mother on the head. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm wonderful."

They stayed like that for a while, until she unlatched herself from Hana and stood up, a calm smile on her face.

"You _are_ acting weird," she muttered.

The lady turned to Genji, placing her hands behind her. "Sorry you had to see that. And thank you—for everything."

"You are very welcome, Song-san."

"What did you say?" she asked, surprised.

 _What_ did _I say?_ he thought. "Uh…" he said, before he lapsed into silence.

After staring at him questioningly for a moment, her eyes opened wide in understanding. She held her hands to her mouth as she blushed furiously. "Oh my gosh, I never told you my name."

"Well…" he responded unhelpfully.

"I never introduced myself." She turned her back to him. "I know yours and I told you so much but I never actually told you my _name_."

"I'm… sorry?" he offered, equally unhelpfully.

"No!" she exclaimed, her hair almost whipping him across the face in her haste to face him. Her face was still an impressive shade of red. "It's my… It's my—" She stopped herself and coughed. "My name is Yumi. It's very nice to meet you, Genji."

* * *

Author's Notes:

 _This chapter is by far the hardest for me to finish, for a number of reasons. Writer's block definitely being one of them. Also, I'm aware that there may be some errors in the previous chapters in regards to grammar and some inconsistencies, but I'll fix them eventually! One thing is for certain, however, today will_ not _be that day. I'm going to bed._

 _I'm so glad I managed to get this chapter out with a quality I'm happy with, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Oh, and I actually just came back from a vacation with a couple of friends at Korea. How meta is that?_

 _Am I using 'meta' right? I don't know, and a little too tired to care. Sounds right though, so that's good enough for me._

 _See you in the next one!_


	23. Chapter 23

Yumi Song shook her head. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know much about finding this special water of yours."

Genji slumped. He figured that it couldn't had been that simple.

The park was beautiful. Genji had come to learn that it was a public nature reserve, an almost ancient piece of land which was left untouched as far as anyone could remember. The only intervention of humans in this area took the form of trimmed tree branches, mowed grass, the tidy placement of wooden benches along the gravel paths, and small white signs stuck into the soil explaining the immediate space around each one and warning against animal feeding and snakes. The colors of the pictures on the signs were already starting to fade, and the words printed onto them a little indistinct and becoming increasingly so with each subsequent rainfall.

The cyborg cast his eyes around him. Without even reading the signs, which were available in English and another language he didn't understand, he could tell that the place was wild and teeming with life. Close to the gravel path, the grass was short, bright and shiny, sparkling as the wind swept across it, the reflective blades taking turns to shine the sun into Genji's eyes. Further from the path, the grass grew sparser under the canopy of the trees which grew denser. Oaks, pines and birches twisted and warped into each other in a continuous struggle to reach higher in the never-ending—and in human terms, extremely slow—competition for sunlight. The shocking whites, pinks and reds of camellia flowers peeked from between the trunks in a clearing further in, hairy yellow insects darting between them quickly and tirelessly. The birds in contrast flapped their wings lazily above the trees, and the cyborg could make out the small but rapid motion of resting birds on sheltered branches picking at their wings, between their feathers. Squirrels scurried from the ground to the trees in a blink of an eye, and made equally fast progress coming back down and crossing the gravel path in front of him, as though they would be rendered unable to do so after he passed.

Despite his calm and peaceful surroundings, Genji felt anxiety twist in his viscera like a foul parasite. He was inexorably inching closer to the time limit without having made any discernable progress towards finding the elixir. Suffocating the feeling of helplessness which crept up to him and threatened to take over him, he concentrated on what to do next. He pulled out the capsule thoughtfully and turned it about in his hands, noticing a little digital timer embedded in the plastic. It ticked down, accurate to the second. Genji had thirty minutes left until the test ended.

"Are there any lakes nearby? Ponds, streams? Any bodies of water?" he asked levelly, not allowing his voice to express his inner turmoil.

Yumi looked away from Hana who was at the moment dispersing butterflies by means of running into beds of grass and glanced uncertainly at the cyborg. Uncertainty? No—it seemed closer to worry. "There is a lake further up, but it's been here forever and you can't drink straight from it."

"I will try it," the cyborg said, being careful to keep the desperation from his voice.

The worry in her huge brown eyes grew more intense. "It's an important test, isn't it?"

"I think so."

Silence came between them.

"I wish I can do more to help," she finally said slowly, "but I really can't think of anywhere else you might find some special, unique water. This city was built on top of a decimated layer of technology with a focus of industrialization because of the _Incident_. In the very few places where you can find water lying around, it's either already in dirt between slabs of asphalt or in the reserve's lake." She tapped at her jaw thoughtfully. "Well, there is one more place…"

Genji glanced up.

"I don't know too much about it though," she said hesitantly, "I just heard once in passing that there used to be a natural spring north of the city in a place where there used to be a museum. The way the story goes, one day water just started spilling from the building's foundations, and people thought it was a burst water pipe underground." She bit her lip. "Or was it the other way around?"

"Do you know where it is?"

"I'm not exactly sure where… I just heard that it's been reduced to a pile of rubble, one of the few structures which wasn't cleaned up after the _Incident_ ," Yumi explained, shrugging. "From what I've heard, that isn't anything exactly defining about it—it was just that: a pile of rubble."

Genji reached behind his head and scratched it. It wasn't much to go on, but it was certainly better than nothing. If he was lucky, he wouldn't even need to take that chance if the lake proved to be the source of the elixir.

"It's not far now." Yumi pointed some distance ahead at a bend in the path. "Just around the corner. Hana! Not too far, please!"

The cyborg started fidgeting with the capsule. Even though he knew it would be pointless to contemplate the consequences of failing the test, he couldn't help but do so anyway. The possibility of the worst outcome was always there, looming at the back of his mind. It seemed like whenever he tried to turn away from it and hide from it, it would come close and strangle him, unseen tendrils reaching for him from a place he cannot see. It took some effort to force it back down. _Where will I go if I'm not accepted here anymore? Will I be left alone, or sent away somewhere?_ Genji decided that though he might not feel as comfortable here as opposed to the watch point, he wanted to finish what he started, to make something of the little determination given to him by the commander.

Genji detected something light touching his arm. Surprised, he looked up and saw Yumi's eyes and slight smile. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to.

Hana burst through the gap through the trees before they did, yelling gibberish incomprehensible to all except for herself and the ones her age. Genji followed, ducking down beneath the branches into a glade surrounded by a circle of trees. At this point, it was hard to see between them. They were dense enough for darkness to reign between their leaves even on a sunny day. This accentuated the light pouring from above the light onto the lake, playing on the water, like a spotlight.

They realized that they were not alone. Across the lake, a man in very familiar fatigues knelt to the water and dipped an equally familiar capsule into it. It was hard to make out his features from such a distance, but the cyborg in comparison had very distinct physical attributes. "Genji, is that you?" the man shouted, further proving this fact, as he stood up and raised his eyes.

"Will Pyre?" he shouted back across.

"Hang on," Will replied, "let me get to you!" He jogged around the perimeter of the lake, and stopped in front of him, breathing a little faster. Genji realized how striking his blue eyes became in the sun. "How's it going, my good omnic? Any progress on the elixir?"

"That's why I'm here. But now I see the futility of the attempt," he answered glumly, looking at Will's empty capsule.

"Aw, don't say that! At least being here confirmed that this lake does not, in fact, carry the elixir," he laughed. Regulating his breathing, he glanced at the two others with him. The mother waved timidly at the soldier, while the toddler was some distance away in the undertaking of the preoccupying task of having a good—and considerably loud—time with nature. She didn't seem to have noticed the soldier's presence.

"This is Yumi Song," the cyborg quickly introduced, gesturing. "Over there is her daughter, Hana. They helped me find this place."

Will's face twisted to a contemplative expression. A moment passed. "Not even a day in and already making moves. I better step up my game."

The remark left Genji confused, and Yumi blushing.

"Where are my manners? It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Song."

"Likewise, Mister…"

"Pyre—but Will's just fine."

"Then just Yumi would suffice too," she said with a smile.

"That it will, Yumi," he said, grinning in return. "Where have you been, Genji? We can eliminate our options and go somewhere we haven't been to yet."

"By the cliffs and the roads south. The only water I found was that of the sea."

"I'm glad I bumped into you, then. That was where I was headed to next." He furrowed his eyebrows. "Where do we go now, though?" he wondered aloud, then looked up. "Also, where were you just now? I tried looking for you but I couldn't see you anywhere outside the tent."

Genji looked down at his stark white armor plates and the conspicuous green glow between them. _Really?_

"I was just telling Genji about a water source up north," Yumi spoke up, "but I've only heard rumors about it. It's in the rubble of a collapsed museum, if it's even there anymore."

"Well, at least we know where we're headed to next!" he said cheerfully, a glint in his eye, "what are we waiting for? Time's a—wastin'!"

"But I'm really not too sure if you'll find what you're looking for there," she protested meekly.

"'S better than no lead at all. You ready to go, Genji?"

A tiny figure appeared behind Yumi, tugging on her sleeve. "Mommy?"

"Well, hello there!" Will lowered himself, resting his palms on his knees. "Hana—that right? Aren't you just the most adorable little girl! Nice to meet you!"

Hana's eyes widened. She stared at Will for a second before turning her bewildered gaze above her to her mother, sliding behind her back. Genji chuckled softly.

Without a word, Yumi smiled and patted her on the head, gesturing to Will with a nod.

Like a deer in headlights, the child returned her huge brown eyes to the soldier before saying softly, "Nice to meet you too."

Will threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "Children—is there anything more precious in this world? I can't wait to have my own!"

Yumi turned to her daughter. "What is it, Hana?"

Hana opened her mouth to answer at the same time a deep, surprisingly aggressive growling emanated from her torso. She blushed, shutting her mouth.

"You're hungry, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"Well, I am too. Why don't we get something to eat?"

The girl looked to the cyborg, her expression inscrutable.

"I'm sorry Hana," Genji said, "I cannot follow."

"Hey, it's okay," said Will soothingly, noticing her melancholy, "Genji would visit you. Won't you, Genji?"

Three pairs of eyes stared at the cyborg expectantly. It's not as though he would give any other answer anyway, but the attention still made him feel a little uncomfortable.

"Of course," he replied. "Of course I will."

Though the road grew wider here, the streets were quieter. The noise of haggling and afternoon activity faded and transitioned to the deep purring of truck engines and the quiet speech of factory workers.

"So what was all that about?"

"All what?"

"Hana and Yumi. How did you meet them?"

There were no residential buildings around here—the blocky grey buildings of industry rapidly took over as they walked further north. Each was as odd-shaped as the next, some taking a small area of land, others taking an entire stretch of the street, all of them squat and low, the highest reaching only up to three levels high. The only color that can be seen is the bright signs in front of each building written in characters and symbols Genji could not decipher, and the attire of the workers. Regardless of what uniform they wore, each had a bright yellow helmet on his head as well as a reflective vest around their chests. There wasn't much of them around; Genji could count how many there were along a street with his hands. Nobody noticed them as they paced to their destination; all busy and focused on their tasks, staring at clipboards and talking into phones, all while walking briskly between the compounds.

"Pure happenstance," Genji replied. "Hana—I found when she was separated from her mother, lost on the streets."

"Is that so?"

"It is. What is it?"

Will cleared his throat. "It's just that it doesn't seem like the Koreans are particularly fond of omnics, y'know? Ever since we got here, I haven't seen a single one, and when I asked about it people either hushed up or changed the subject." He waved his hands and quickly added, "not that I have a problem! Against your kind, I mean. I mean omnics—"

"I'm not an omnic," the cyborg interrupted drily.

Will stopped, his eyes wide.

"What?"

Genji sighed. "I said I am not an omnic. I am human—just like you."

A long silence came, a silence which Will spent slowly scanning Genji from head to toe with his eyes.

"Were you programmed to think that way?" he asked finally.

Genji sighed even deeper and at length. Shaking his head, he reached behind it and activated the pistons. At the sound of escaping gas, he reached to pull off his faceplate—and hesitated. Suddenly, Genji remembered how he felt staring into the burnt empty eyes of a stranger when he first woke up. He couldn't believe he never considered it; the pure horror.

"Hey, you alright?"

Startled, Genji looked up into concerned and confused blue eyes, similar to the ones he'd seen in the mirror beside him when he was brought back to the world. Holding his breath, he slowly lowered his hand.

Will's expression was locked in place. After a while, his jaw slowly lowered, forming his mouth into a wide 'O'.

Genji was starting to reconsider his decision, in futility.

"What in the world _happened_ to you?"

He quickly put his faceplate back on. "I do not really know myself. My old life before I woke up in this state, in this new body, I don't really remember much at all."

Another long silence. Genji avoided eye contact.

"That is _sick_."

His heart dropped. "I know," he admitted. "I also could not quite look at myself the first time—"

"What are you on about?" he interrupted, getting louder. "That is absolutely wicked! Gnarly! Unbelievable! You're like something out of an action movie, aren't you?"

A mad glee was present in his eyes when Genji looked up in surprise. He had considered a number of reactions; shock, confusion, even pity… and this wasn't any of them.

Will gestured to his arms. "Are those things real? What about your legs? A mechanical heart, surely? This is so cool. And you said you don't remember anything about how you became like this?"

"I—"

"That's so sick!"

"Please, calm yourself. People are looking…"

"What a plot device!" He slapped his knee. "So are you on a grand journey of self-discovery or something? That's sick, man." Will paused, then started looking around suspiciously. "I'm not being pranked, am I? Is there anyone watching us? Cameras or something?"

"No."

"To which one? The self-discovery or the cameras?"

"There isn't anyone watching us, I am sure, besides everyone within a street's radius."

"…huh. So you're right. Everyone stopped moving, haven't they? Are they all looking at us?"

"Yes."

"Was I really being that loud?"

"Yes."

"Then should we get a move on?"

"Preferably."

"All right, then." Will cleared his throat loudly and started pacing a little quicker up the street, walking stiffly.

Genji follow along. After moving a few blocks away, Will broke the silence.

"I'm sorry for my… ah, little outburst."

Genji chuckled. "'Little'?"

"You see, people like you don't exist in this world. People like you is the stuff of fiction—only existing in comic books, in movies or novels, stuff like that. So it was just really bizarre for me to realize that you _do_ exist." He looked back at Genji, almost reverent.

"You believe me, then?"

"Of course I do. For one thing, it's harder to believe that that white shell you have on you is a costume seeing how you _broke_ the floor in the gym, and maybe I just want to believe you."

Genji laughed again. It felt good.

"Still though, please forgive me for earlier."

"Me? Forgive you?"

"I realize it might have been insensitive for me to ask you about your body. From how your face looked as well, it doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out that it wasn't quite such a smooth transition into your new body." He slowed down and walked beside Genji. "You're human too, aren't you? You're not an almighty hero from a comic book. You live like I do and breathe like I do. You have things that make you happy and things that make you sad, and angry. I just happened to forget all that in the heat of the moment."

Genji smiled. "There's nothing to forgive. I do not mind you asking, truly. I lost my arms and legs. As for my heart—well, the heart of a man still beats inside of me, from what I've been told by Doctor Ziegler."

Will's eyes glazed over. "Angela Ziegler? _Mercy_?"

"Yes. You know her?"

"Wait. _You_ do? You've spoken to her?"

"Of course. She was the one who brought me back, and also took it upon herself to be my source of reassurance and comfort whenever I felt lost."

"I can't believe this."

Genji glanced at Will. It wasn't like earlier when it was an ecstatic disbelief. The air felt hostile this time.

"Will?" he asked tentatively.

"I can't believe this," he repeated, his voice harsher this time.

"What's wrong—"

Will rounded on him and grabbed him by the shoulders. In his eyes, helplessness.

"I thought we were cool, man!"

"What?" the cyborg asked, utterly confused.

"Is she… is she as beautiful as they say?"

"What are you asking?"

"Listen. Just answer the question, please."

"Yes, she is."

"She's what?"

"She's beautiful." Genji distinctly remembered how light always shone against her golden hair, giving the impression of a halo.

"Like a… like a goddess?"

"Like a goddess?" Genji asked, bewildered.

"Like a goddess!" Will howled.

Genji quickly looked around and to his relief found that this particular street was devoid of people.

"Tell me, Genji!" He started shaking him.

"T-tell you… if she looks—"

"—like this!" Will pulled out a slim rectangular device and clicked a button on its side. The screen illuminated, revealing the time in bold numbers superimposed over the unmistakable picture of Angela Ziegler. In the picture, she was turned away bent over a hospital bed, smiling slightly to someone off-camera. Her arms were folded pressing a clipboard against her white nurse's uniform, her hair in an immaculate golden ponytail.

"Well, not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"I've only seen her in T-shirts—"

"In _T-shirts_!" he yelled, throwing back his head.

"—and her hair was often in a mess. I've found a few strands clinging to my armor one time."

"How did it get there? Did she _hug_ you?"

"Uh… well—"

"Well?!"

"Yes, but why is it such a big—"

"I can't believe you've done this!"

"Will! Are you crying?"

"Air is dusty! So her hair was messy? Unkempt? I want details, Genji. _Details_!"

"But why?"

"Because it's important to me," he groaned.

"Well, her skin was always pale and she had shadows underneath her eyes. She never takes proper care of herself when there is someone else she's concerned about."

"'Someone else' being you in this instance?"

"Yes," he admitted guiltily.

"I can't believe you've done this."

"Why?"

"You don't realize how lucky you are."

"But I do. I'm very lucky to be alive—"

"No, to have had Mercy take care of you. She _hugged_ you, man." He mouthed his last sentence again silently.

"Is it really such a huge thing?"

"Maybe not to some, but it is to many," he answered solemnly. "She is a goddess among men. It's like you've said, she disregards herself when it comes to others." He shook his head. "This world doesn't deserve her. Unfortunately, we need her. During the Canadian war, her presence alone tripled the productivity of the relief effort, and that was years ago, when she was still in the Red Cross. There are hundreds of people who should've been dead but aren't because she operated on them, like she has some mysterious power of bringing people back to life."

"It does seem like she does," Genji said, lost in thought. "I might agree with you, but I do not think Doctor Ziegler would like being treated like a god."

"No?"

Genji smiled. "She hates formalities, is too apologetic for her own good, and can be surprisingly unforgiving when you neglect your own health."

"Seems to be a thing with doctors, eh? But I suppose that they're known for their medical expertise, and not for their abstinence for hypocrisy," he said, chuckling.

"I suppose what I am trying to say is that she is very much like you and me, and she's still a lady who likes to have fun outside of her work," he added, remembering the rosy face of the intoxicated doctor.

"Like you, maybe," he cut in, "but I'm just an average joe."

"What do you mean? Your name is Will."

"What? Yes, I know."

"But you said your name was Joe. I know a Joe; he works in an electronic store in the city."

"What are you—the 'average joe' thing? No, it's a figure of speech."

"A figure…"

"…of speech. It's just a saying. It means I'm not special or anything like that."

"And what makes someone special?" Genji argued, "being a _comic-book_ ninja?"

"Holy hell, you're a ninja?"

"It is your turn to answer my question," he said impatiently.

"I don't know, someone that stands out, I guess."

"Well, you stand out to me."

"That's not what I mean—"

"But it is enough for me," he cut in.

They looked for each other for a moment. Will laughed.

"Then I suppose that it's enough for me, too."

The factories started to disappear. This time, trees started to dominate the streets. They walked in silence for a while.

"You know," Will started, "she's one of the reasons why I'm here now. If one person can make so much of a difference, I want to try too. Maybe my effort wouldn't matter, but you'd never know unless you try." He looked up to the cloudy sky. "I want to make the world a better place, for everyone and my Ma, but I can't just sit around wishing for that to happen, can't I?"

"You are correct," Genji concurred, nodding. "You can't."

"What about you? Why are you here?"

The cyborg smirked. "On a grand journey of self-discovery."

The soldier in the blue fatigues blinked, and laughed.

"How do they end up?" Genji asked.

"Who?"

"The people in your comic-books. People you say are like me."

Will scratched his jaw thoughtfully. "Well, they all start out a little different. Some are born with superpowers, you know? But others aren't gifted, and have to work really hard for it. But as the old quote goes, it's not about how you start, it's about how you finish."

"And how did they finish?"

"As heroes, man," he answered, "they finish as heroes."

* * *

Author's Notes:

 _Sorry for the hiatus! I spent about a month in Scotland visiting family and found it a little hard to get back in the swing of things. Thank you so much each and every one of you who stuck with this from chapter 1 regardless of when you started, and I hope you can stay a little longer._


	24. Chapter 24

"I think this is it."

Rusted pieces of rebar tangled from a pile of concrete ruin, out of place amidst the trees and grass. Overgrowth crept into the edges of the collapsed structure, vines snaking and leaves fluttering against the unmoving grey of the building once before. The mound seemed to extend further out into the trees, making it impossible to tell where the concrete ended, and where the dirt began.

Will rested a hand on his hip, scratching his head. "So we're supposed to be able to find a water source here? Can we be sure this is where Yumi was talking about?"

Genji slowly scanned the area. His visor illuminated the darkness between the trees. Some distance away, the cyborg saw engravings on a large rectangular piece of stone. It was broken in half, with one piece resting against a tree and the other lying flat on the ground just beside it. The slabs were hardly readable, coated with dirt and obscured by overgrowth. " _The Modern History Museum of Korea,_ " he read out. "We are at the right place."

"Alright, but how do we get under there?"

The cyborg surveyed the rocks and hummed to himself softly. The rubble was layered; a wide foundation of it supporting ascending pieces. "It would take too long to dig," he muttered.

"That's really what you're worried about? I'm thinking more for manpower," Will said, kicking a pebble. "Those slabs don't look like a two-man job."

Entering the canopy of trees, Genji made his way around the back and found that the sides of the rubble told the same story; he wouldn't be able to shift any of the stone on the ground which were weighed down by the immense weight above them.

Genji bit his lip. _How to get under there? Is there even a basement?_

"Genji, look."

He glanced over to see Will bent over, squinting at a section of broken stone some distance away.

"What is it?"

"There's a slab here that's loose against the foundation," Will replied, pointing at a chunk of stone twice the size of himself, "see the gap? There's nothing pushing it down. We just have to find a way to pull it out."

Indeed, there was pitch black darkness between the stones, a tantalizing suggestion of space beneath the structure which hinted at their prize. He became surer of it when he heard the soft but distinct whistling of air as it escaped the crevice.

Will stepped away and drew a deep breath. "Okay, now what? We can't possibly lift that on our own, and we have – he checked the capsule – exactly eighteen minutes left until the test ends." Gnawing at his knuckle, he cast his gaze to the dirt and paced about. "We could try to scrounge up some recruits to come here and help us lift the slab, but we're really starved on time… or we could get some of those engineers and workers to help us, shame I can't speak a single word of Korean… maybe…"

At this point, Will was pacing faster and faster, his words getting more incoherent. He was talking to himself now. Genji was surprised to see no sign of franticness from him despite this.

The cyborg returned his attention to the rock where he identified two mounds in the unevenness of it that could serve as handholds. Digging his heels into the dirt, he lowered himself and found firm purchase on the slab. He pulled carefully, increasing his strength in tiny increments. The dirt sunk from beneath his feet. He adjusted his stance and tried again, the rapid voice of Will keeping him company. His routine continued until his feet were a full two-inches deep into the ground, and the stone was starting to slide out. Though a red exclamation mark was starting to flash at the bottom left on his vision, he felt no strain whatsoever.

Eventually, still with Will's almost chanting voice in the background, Genji managed to fully pull out the slab, hoist it up to its side, and allowed it to fall to the ground with a resounding clap and a momentary rumble of the earth.

Throughout this, the cyborg was watching his friend carefully, and was not in the least bit disappointed when he was jolted out of his trance as he jumped violently.

"You… did this?" he finally breathed after a moment of stunned silence.

Genji nodded.

He stared at the hole in the ground Genji uncovered for a while. "Huh," he finally said thoughtfully.

The hole extended into the ground with stone steps descending deeper into the darkness. Genji knocked at his visor, wondering why it didn't help illuminate the darkness. The red caution mark was still flashing, and static filled his vision sporadically. Supposing that he damaged something lifting the rock, he hoped it would resolve itself soon.

Will leaned in. "We're going to need a flashlight for this. Wouldn't be able to see my hands in front of my face."

His last sentence bounced along the walls and resounded back to the entrance, a deep repetition which grew quieter with each one to a rumble.

"Will, do you hear that?"

"Hear what? The echo? Echo!"

"Wait—quiet. Listen," whispered Genji.

They stood in silence for a moment.

"I hear it. Running water?"

"Yes. And something else."

"Something else?"

"A whirring. No, more. Two? Five?"

"I don't hear it. Genji! Don't go down there!"

"Not five," the cyborg muttered to himself. "Dozens."

Like fireflies in the night, faint blue lights appeared in the darkness. Some glowed as solitary dots. Others were lines. One by one the lights appeared in the cavernous space, ebbing away the darkness and casting itself dimly on the moss on the walls.

"I don't believe it," breathed Will, "are those… are those—"

"—faces," Genji finished.

"Please," whispered a feminine, tinny metallic voice, "please don't hurt us."

Lowering himself, Genji slowly descended down the steps. "You will suffer no harm," he said, taking more effort into enunciating his words, "not from us."

Will stepped in behind Genji. "What in the world are all of you doing down here?"

They recoiled visibly, pressing themselves closer to the stone walls. The space had been a room, once. Brown, textile wallpaper still clung weakly in a few areas, bare stone being exposed for the most part as it peeled. Moth eaten paintings and photographs lay on the floor beside the decaying wooden frames they were once housed in, glass fragments large and small peppering the floor like sparkling puddles. Genji could hear the whirring becoming more frantic, and the scraping of metal on glass as they slid away.

"We will not hurt you," the cyborg repeated.

Genji took another tentative step down. No response. No change in their anxiety.

Will, just as slowly, followed. They started shifting uncomfortably. The whirring is almost shrill now.

"Will, take a step back."

"What?"

"Move a little away from them."

After a moment, Will complied, retreating back to the entrance. The noise slowed, and calmed.

Genji took one step down, and then another. Will watched from above as he reached the bottom and slowly knelt some distance away from the semi-circle of lights.

"Are all of you… omnics?" he asked.

"Please, don't make us le-le-leave," said the first voice. Crackling impaired her speech, her last word coming as an unpleasant rasp. "…The on-on-only place we have le-left."

"We are not here to make you leave."

Her head twisted up to look at Will, the hinges on her rusted neck whining softly.

"That is my friend," Genji said, answering her unspoken question. "His name is Will. Mine is Genji. It is all right. We will take nothing from you."

"Why?"

Genji turned towards the new voice. It carried a slight echo similar to when Genji spoke with his mask on, but deeper and more pronounced.

"Why have you come here?"

"We are on a mission to find a special kind of water. We heard there was a water source discovered here."

Nobody said anything. In their silence, one at a time, all the tiny lights rotated, pivoted, and tilted up to face Will.

"He is with me," Genji said quickly. "We are on this mission together. You have nothing to fear."

The omnics did not respond. For a long moment, they continued staring up at Will. Genji noticed that he was starting to squirm.

"Will it be alright if he came down?"

One of the omnics looked back at Genji, and unmistakably nodded.

Will carefully made his way down and sat on the bottom step. "How long have all of you been trapped down here?" he asked. "We'll come back with help when we return to base. We won't forget—"

"No! No come ba-back. No help."

"No help?" he repeated incredulously. "But you're trapped down here—"

"No help. N-n-no help!"

Genji's eyes widened.

 _That's because they're hidden away right now…_

"I don't understand," Will said, shaking his head.

… _unspoken ritual which started soon after the first_ Incident.

The cyborg slowly rose to his feet. "They are not trapped here."

"What?"

"I will explain everything later. How much time do we have left?"

Will checked the capsule, and jumped. "Damn! Nine minutes. We need to hurry!"

"Please," Genji said, turning to the omnics, "we will not bother you any more than we have to. Please tell us where you might have found water here and we will be gone."

One of them lifted a creaky arm and pointed to the far end of the room. "It's in the crack in that wall," he explained, "but it is too narrow to reach through—"

In two strides, the cyborg crossed the length of the room and drove his fist into the crevice. The wall all but exploded; dust puffed into the air and settled on his body, while larger rocks, glistening in moisture, tumbled onto the ground heavily. Exposed was a section of natural rocks embedded in soil which upon water trickled down from an unknown source. Genji quickly pulled out his capsule and jabbed it into the opening. He was silent for a time.

"Well, Genji?" prodded Will, unable to wait a moment longer. "Have we found it?"

Unable to find his voice, the cyborg simply shook his head.

A blanket of clouds obscured the sky. Sporadic drops of rain spattered onto the cyborg's armor, and darkened the fabric of the soldier's fatigues.

"Genji! What's wrong? Keep up!" he called over his shoulder, between pants.

"What's the point? We have failed."

"What are you on about? Come on, you can go faster than this!"

"We did not achieve our objective. It does not matter if we are back on time. We already failed."

"Listen to me—just hurry! Just forget that for a moment and make it back with me before the time limit!"

"But—"

Will spun, and grabbed Genji by the arm. The cyborg saw eyes full of defeat. _How can he still press on?_ he wondered.

"Is that it, then? In your mind, everything's over, isn't it?"

The rain was coming down harder now. It was starting to drown out Will's rapid panting.

"Answer me!" he screamed in his face, "answer me, Genji!"

Genji tore his eyes away from his unrelenting gaze. "What else can we do?"

"I'll tell you!" The intensity of his fury was growing to match the volume of his voice. "We can go back to the tent and finish what we started! We can tear ourselves down reaching it before the numbers on this capsule reaches zero, and we can report to our commander and tell him ourselves that we have failed! Yes, Genji, I am not delusional. We have _failed_. But it's not just about us, do you understand that? The water we were supposed to find can _save lives_. No, I refuse to let someone else tell Commander Morrison that we failed to return on time, and I also refuse to allow the information I have on where the _elixir_ is not to not return to him as soon as possible! So long as I have my legs, and a heart that can move them!"

Will tugged on Genji's arm. "So run, you stupid, thick hunk of metal, if not for our sakes, then for the sakes of others! Run not because you do not have a cause, but because you are able! We will return and face our failure with pride and dignity. It is the least of what we are expected to do, and the least we deserve—to finish what we've started!"

Genji gasped. He looked up, and saw eyes full of defeat, but not an ounce of resignation. The rain made the moisture on his cheeks impossible to distinguish if it were tears. With his heart in his throat, the cyborg nodded, and ran.

For the moment, that was all the cyborg resolved himself to. Running. He felt the same strange disconnection he felt when he was back at the firing range, his legs carrying him forward. After some time, he stopped thinking about running. He simply let his legs move, as though on autopilot, and let his thoughts drift as the scene changed from forest, to industrial, to residential. _Is it really over? After everything?_ The smiling visage of the doctor swam into his thoughts. _How will I face her? What if I never see her again? Hana... Yumi, any of them?_

A crowd of recruits milled around the tent. Lightning flashed, lighting their uniforms in a brilliant blue for a split moment before darkness returned with the curtains of rain. Genji and Will slowed to a jog, then a walk, the latter falling on all fours when they reached the crowd, gasping for air. The capsule read one minute, twenty seconds.

One of the recruits turned. "Will! That you?" he yelled to be heard over the cacophony of voices and rain.

He looked up from the ground. "Ryan?"

He extended a hand. "Just in the nick of time, eh?"

Will grabbed it, and hoisted himself up. "Barely, it seems. You?"

"Been here for about fifteen minutes already, the time when Commander Morrison said we should return. And get this—there's been quite the development." He pointed deeper into the crowd, where a man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat was making gestures with a heavy looking metal case for the recruits to keep away, talking the whole while. "See him? Apparently, his company's been contracted to repair something for the commander, but he hasn't been paid by his employers for three months already, and decided he's had enough."

"Repair something? Repair what?" Will asked.

"I was getting to that. On top of refusing to do his job, he decided to spill the beans about it. Highly confidential stuff, yeah?" He leaned in. A bolt of lightning flashed above; illuminating his gleeful green eyes. "He was supposed to repair the _elixir_ _machine_. It's broken! All his technical mumbo-jumbo aside, he basically said that the machine which is supposed to identify whether we have the right water or not can't really tell if it's actually the right one! Which means that even if we have the wrong water in our capsule, as long as there's something in it, the machine would just give the green light and pass us!"

"But our capsules," interjected Genji, pulling out his own, "it can tell whether we have the right one or not. So why can't the machine?"

"One of us asked that too," he answered, looking back at the engineer. "The capsule is the first test. The machine is the second; it's supposed to conduct some sort of analysis on the water in our capsules against the water it already has in its reservoir as a final confirmation to see if it's the correct one. That guy called it the ' _comparison analysis_ '. It has nothing to do with the capsule test, and luckily for us, it's busted."

"For _us_?" Will said, "you couldn't find the _elixir_ either?"

"Nope," he replied, shaking his head. "Checked a couple of places, but nothing turned up. I decided to throw in the towel which is why I came back early. And wow, was I lucky I did."

"Your capsule though," Will said, pointing. "It's full of—"

"—rainwater," Ryan finished. "You should fill yours too, and you. Shoot! Quick, just give it to me, I'll fill them up, we're running out of time!"

"But—"

Before Will or Genji could protest, Ryan snatched their capsules from them and ran off between sheets of downpour.

"Genji, does this mean…"

"This means we will pass."

"No, we _could_ pass."

"What do you mean? He just said—"

"I know what he said," interrupted Will. "Do _you_? If the machine thinks the water is the _elixir_ even if it's truly not, it will release it into the reservoir—"

"—contaminating the water," breathed Genji.

"You see now."

"I'm back!" Ryan shoved the capsules into their hands. "All right, just make sure your switch is on green."

Genji held the capsule to his eyes. He could see specks of dirt floating around the inside. "Where did you get this?"

"The same place I got mine. A puddle."

Looking around, Genji could see recruits darting around filling their capsules in strange places. The majority were collecting water from a nearby fountain, some were taking it from puddles, and the rest held their capsules skywards, allowing the rain to trickle in. Their movements were nervous and quick, their demeanors furtive.

Will held the capsule tenderly, like a bomb primed to explode. "Ryan, I don't want to—"

A bell rang shrilly. A sea of lights blinked in unison from the capsules each recruit held signaling the end of the test. The engineer was nowhere to be seen. The soldiers scrambled away from wherever they were obtaining their false water and into lines. The tent flaps opened, almost welcoming. The concrete inside was dry and brightly lit. The commander was standing at the stage once again, arms behind his back, legs shoulder-width apart. An imposing figure.

The machine never moved. It was still where it was. But the recruits eyed it with an air of apprehension and excitement.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the commander called. "Get yourselves out of the rain. The test has ended."


	25. Chapter 25

The recruits stood stoically in parade rest, capsules held behind their backs at its base. The cyborg glanced to his left, then to his right. He could see tiny sediments of dirt and rock drifting in the water of the capsules around him, slowly settling to the bottom. He returned his attention to the front. Being the first in his column, he stood right before the machine. It reflected light into his eyes, and seemed to loom larger than before.

"Shimada!"

Startled, the cyborg glanced at the commander.

"Pay attention. Did you not hear what I said? I repeat myself: step forward and deliver your capsule to the machine."

With a lump in his throat, Genji stepped forward, bringing his capsule in front of him. Foreign material whirled within, spurred by the sudden movement. He tried swallowing to alleviate the discomfort in his throat to no avail.

His heart thundered against the metal cage of his chest, as the sediments slowly settled in the statue-like cradle of his hands. _No one would ever know,_ he thought, _I would get through this. I would pass the test. I can stay. No one would ever know whether this water is truly the_ elixir _, it wouldn't matter to me. It_ shouldn't _matter to me._ He gulped, and grit his teeth. _So why do I feel this way?_

A dozen voices burst into his thoughts.

… _used to treat chronic illnesses … in your mind, everything's over, isn't it? … I'll fill them up, we're running out of time! … we will pass … the least we deserve … answer me! Answer me, Genji—_

"— _Shimada_!"

Ripped from his reverie once again, Genji glanced up to the impatient visage of the commander.

"Everyone is waiting for you," he grunted, "what is your malfunction?"

Snickers behind him. He looked around. All eyes were trained on him. Again, he swallowed. Again, it didn't help.

His mind went blank. His vision swimming, he apathetically raised the capsule to slot it into the machine. The capsule made a soft _clink_ as it touched the metal lip. All he had to do now was to release the capsule. A simple relaxing of his hand, an effortless undertaking of unfurling his fingers. Yet, his hand stayed raised, his fingers frozen. Genji felt his heart sink. He closed his eyes. _I cannot do it_.

"I cannot do it," he said hollowly.

The commander stared at him critically for a second, then leaned into the radio on his shoulder. "Strike commander to mobile echo, dispatch regicide response team for possible suit malfunction at—"

"No! I mean—I _will_ not do it."

Not taking his eyes off the cyborg, he added, "cancel request. Response to remain at post, over and out." When a tinny voice acknowledged the command, the commander cleared his throat. "So which is it? You can't or you won't?"

"I won't, sir."

"And why not?"

"Because this water – he held up the capsule – is not the _elixir_."

The cyborg expected it to end there. He felt utterly ashamed—he couldn't even bring himself to look up from the floor. Unfortunately, there was more.

"How can you be sure?" the commander pressed, "insert it into the machine—it will access it."

Genji's breath caught in his throat. The voice of Ryan echoed in his mind, _it's broken!_

"It's—" Genji stopped himself. _Wait,_ he thought, _do I really have a right to divulge that it is broken? Is it my information to share?_

There were others behind him who too carry contaminated water, but was it his place to make his decision for them? What if they all failed? What if it cost the career of the engineer who told them it was broken in the first place? What about Ryan? Genji was personally opposed to contaminating the water, and though he wouldn't want to see anyone else do it either, would it be selfish for him to single-handedly put an end to the test?

Commander Morrison raised an eyebrow. "It's…?"

Genji inhaled sharply—he had forgotten to breathe. The room was completely silent. His ears rang. After a long moment, the cyborg made his decision. The lump in this throat disappeared, and he relaxed as he found himself in a strange state of cathartic resignation.

Purposefully opening the lid to his capsule, Genji overturned it and let the contents spill onto the floor.

An extremely long and uneasy silence hung in the air. If the commander was furious, he certainly didn't show it. His expression remained the same. The only indication that he was affected at all was that he was frozen in place, with his arms crossed. The silence dragged on. Genji fought the urge to squirm, and wished he could melt into the floor, joining the liquid which was slowly creeping outwards.

"Do you think this is a joke?" he finally whispered.

 _This is it_ , Genji thought, _this is the start of where it may all end_. Though disappointed, he felt no trace of regret. He opened his mouth to answer—

A splash sounded behind him, followed by dripping. Everyone turned around. At the back, Will stood with an empty, overturned capsule in front of him, the ground before him wet. Genji's eyes widened.

Another splash, to his left this time. Before anyone could turn, there was one more. Soon, it was impossible to tell how many. The sound of water being discarded overlapped each other, a continuous stream which stained the ground, until almost every capsule was empty.

"Explain yourselves," the commander said quietly, after the last capsule was emptied.

The room stayed silent. Relentless was the wind against the walls of the tent, snapping it back and forth against the white ropes tied down to the gleaming steel frame. Cracks of thunder sounded mute in the resolute silence, a vigil which no recruit had the inclination of interrupting.

"So be it," he acknowledged to the silence in a voice seemingly devoid of emotion. "Anyone who still has a filled capsule, step forward now to turn it in."

Genji's heart dropped.

Boots shuffled against the ground as a few recruits slipped between bodies to reach the front. Genji could see it: capsules filled with green, translucent water. There was even a dead bug drifting in one of them as the water sloshed within. He felt sick. _Can I let this happen? Will I be responsible if I know the truth, and allow them to turn it in? It will not just be my future! Can I force their hands to stay?_

The first in line raised his capsule. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Genji as its tip touched the chrome lip of the machine's receiver.

 _Should I?_ He grit his teeth. His heart seemed to beat right in his throat. _I do not have to. I can stay silent. It is their own decision, after all. Who am I to interfere? Yes, that's it. I won't do it. I will not say a word. I won't—_

The capsule was halfway into the machine.

"Stop!" Genji heard himself exclaim.

Everything froze.

"What is it _this_ time, Shimada?" the commander asked, enunciating each word slowly.

"Y-you can't," he pleaded, looking into the blank, yellow eyes of the soldier.

"Why not?" he shot back, apathetically.

The first embers of anger burned within the cyborg. "You know why," he whispered through gritted teeth.

"This will be the last time I repeat myself, Shimada," the commander said firmly, "if you have something to say, spit it out, before I throw you out."

The recruit smiled dryly. "Well, do you? You _sure_ you have something to say?"

Genji's breath caught in this throat. He simply couldn't believe it. How could a person be so callous? The man steadily held his gaze, not a trace of remorse, not a sliver of hesitation. His eyes were empty, mind-numbingly indifferent. He looked like he could yawn. Genji knew he would need to choose his next words very carefully. Taking a deep breath, he waited for his heart to steady. Then he looked up to the commander. "I am one man."

"One man," he repeated, "with a life which feels like it has barely started. Being so, I understand that there are still many things for me yet to learn about this world, but there are things which I do know. Things like care, selflessness, sacrifice… kindness, suffering, and pain.

"The water that was in my capsule was not the elixir. I… do not know if the machine would accept it or not, but the risk isn't worth the attempt, when I know it to be not the right one." He bowed his head. "I have failed, sir, failed to find the _elixir_. I am filled with regret because maybe I could have tried harder to find it, and even more so ashamed to have to admit as so, but it is an insignificant, selfish burden I will—no, _must_ carry, for it is better than the alternative; one where I offer the machine a chance to accept contaminated water into its reservoir, in a feeble… a contemptable attempt to preserve a journey I still wish to pursue, where in its success I will only do harm to other people. Other people, who would not deserve it, just to save one man."

"Look at you," the soldier with the yellow eyes sneered, "how I marvel your nobility. What is worth this heroic pretense you've conjured for yourself, a proclaimed care for others you don't even know, if you won't be around to see it through? Are you willfully arrogant, or hopelessly ignorant?"

"Neither," the cyborg almost snarled. He shook to keep his voice under control. "I expect nothing. I am simply explaining myself, in a hope which seems increasingly vain to me to keep you from dropping that filthy water into the machine."

"A hope," he repeated condescendingly, "which you are right to refer to as vain. After all, the point of this thing – he rapped his knuckles against the machine – is to access the water, is it not? Why then do you care about my decision in this regard?"

Genji almost took a step back. He felt as if he had been punched in the gut, the wind knocked out of him. _What is wrong with him?_ he thought in his frustration, _does he actually want me to say it?_

He smiled tauntingly, waiting for a reply. Genji glanced up at the commander. His brows were furrowed as he leaned against the podium. He was waiting for the same thing. Looking around him, he found no help. Everyone else was avoiding eye contact.

"Like I have said before," he began slowly, "my life feels like it has barely started. I don't know where I stand and where I should go, a conundrum which precedes the one where I am fumbling for a lantern so I could at least see my hands in front of my face. But I have just confirmed something about this, just now."

Genji stared deep into the unflinching eyes of the soldier. He heard the sound of breaking glass and fragments colliding with the floor as something in his hand gave when he clenched his fist. "I will carry no lantern fueled with the oils of deceit _bought_ —" he spat the word, "—with the currency of lies and indifference. You ask me why I care about your decision. I do because I felt as if I could change it, allow you a perspective on your way. I see now that it is impossible.

If to you, _nobility_ and _heroic pretense_ is one and the same, it would become clear to me there is not one shred of decency within you, not a tiny measure of honor. So make your decision, but know that you will be responsible for it, and not me, because I have done all I could. _You_ will answer to the sick and their families, and _you_ will discover then if any sophistry of care, selflessness, sacrifice, kindness, suffering, or pain will do anything to soothe them. _You_ , and not me.

"And if that makes me arrogant, or ignorant, I pray that I remain so even if I am fumbling blind for another lantern for the rest of my life."

Without waiting for a response, the cyborg stormed out of the tent, pulling open its flap in a violent flourish to join the tempest raging outside.

* * *

Author's notes

 _It has really been quite a while. I've had a lot going on with my life, and I apologize for the unannounced hiatus. Sad to say, it might not end any time soon. I've going through some stuff right now, and though it's getting easier, I have a feeling that I'm just coming up for a brief breath of air before I go back down under. That, and on top of work, I think I'll really have 2018 cut out for me. I'll try to keep optimistic, but I want to let you know that I'm not done with Genji yet. It might take a little longer, but bear with me, if you would care to. :)_

 _With that said, I say again that I appreciate every one of you that made it to this note for this chapter. I really do. Yes, I mean you. Thank you for sticking with me, and with Genji. I'll see you in the next one, and remember, you don't have to go easy on me on the reviews. If you have anything to add or comment about, anything at all, just stick it in there. It'll make my day._

 _Stay tuned._


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